Through The Valley Of Death: Book 1
by CheeZFingerSlim
Summary: Two Marines & a News Reporter end up at the Cross Roads Mall alongside a group of survivors. Everyone must learn to work together and fight to survive in this apocalypse, however, things only seem to go from bad to worse and beyond. First in a Trilogy.
1. Chapter 1: Enter Kyle Ambrose

**Author's Note:** Basically a rewrite of my original DotD: MM story. Many mistakes have been fixed and while it's still the same basic plotline and many of the scenes from the movie still exist as they did in the original version, there are alot of editations as well.

Hope you enjoy ^^

* * *

First Lieutenant Kyle Ambrose slowly scanned out the area that had been taken and sealed off by the military that was Fort Pastor through the 10x rifle scope located on his M21 Designated Marksman Rifle from the top of a nearby sniper tower. There were tons of people, most soaking in blood, injured or passed out. Even most of the soldiers that were in the immediate area had blood soaked fatigues. He sighed as he took in the scene, biting his lower lip.

Kyle was twenty-eight years old, had jet black hair that was cut rather short, a well toned physical body one would expect from a soldier, stood at six foot and one inch and weighed one hundred and seventy-one pounds. His skin was colored pretty fairly - not too light and not too dark - and he had icy blue eyes which were currently taking in the environment through the duplex cross hairs at the end of his rifle scope.

It was Kyle - and every other soldiers - job to prevent anyone who seemed to be infected from spreading the infection any further. If anybody were to make any quick, hostile movements, First Lieutenant Ambrose or another soldier were to immediately neutralize them with (hopefully) a single rifle round to the skull. Luckily though, things had been rather quiet around Fort Pastor. No signs of infection yet. Always a good sign.

Suddenly a familiar voice rang out in Kyle's ear. "Yo Lieutenant..." Fellow sniper, Lance Corporal Stephen Miller said.

Kyle brought his hand to the ear piece located on the right side of his head and responded. "Yeah Miller?"

"Check out the Channel 6 News van, specifically that little news reporter. She's got quite a body, eh?" Followed by Miller's laugh.

Slowly, Kyle swept his rifle toward a large white van, expecting to find some young blond woman who had too much make-up and probably couldn't do her job any more efficiently than a chimp. Much to his surprise, he came across a rather attractive woman, young, but still old enough to look like she knew how to handle her job well. From his current distance, Kyle couldn't make out a proper height, but guessed anywhere from five six to five ten. She had light brown skin and rich black hair that was tied back with a green scrunchie. On the right sleeve of her baby blue news uniform, there was a large red 6 plastered on an armband. The First Lieutenant simply rolled his eyes and returned to scanning the trees on the outsides of Fort Pastor's fences.

"Can it, Miller." He snapped. "Think with the head on your shoulders, not the one in your pants. We've got a job to do, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah... Jeez, your no fun Lieutenant." The Lance Corporal replied, a bit of irritation in his voice.

"Not here for fun, Miller." Kyle shot back. "I'm here to keep these people safe."

"Damn good words, Lieutenant Ambrose." Major General Marcus Swanson's voice came over Kyle's ear piece.

"Thank you, Sir."

"And because you're so damn good with words, I need you to me a favor, Ambrose." There was a brief pause. "I need you to go down and talk to that reporter. She wants an interview with me, but I really cannot be hassled with such matters right now."

Kyle let out an irritated sigh as he squeezed his eyes shut. It was obvious that this was an order in diguise, so he didn't protest. Instead, he huffed and rolled his eyes, silently fuming. "Yes, Sir." He grunted and heaved the eleven and a half pound sniper rifle up, then slung it around his shoulder.

Slowly and hesitantly, the First Lieutenant made his way down the sniper tower. He glanced at the reporter that stood all the way across Fort Pastor, talking with one of her co-workers and brought a gloved hand to his face, sighing again. He then made his way toward her, crossing the distance between them in under two minutes. The reporter - who probably went up to about his nose - turned toward him as he approached.

"You are...?" She asked curiously.

"First Lieutenant Kyle Ambrose of the United States Marine Corps." Kyle said, introducing himself. "Major General Marcus Swanson is busy at the moment and has requested for me to take his place in the interview."

"Oh..." The reporter frowned, obviously a bit disappointed. She then turned and barked a few commands, motioning for the others to get into place. A young man who looked like he was in his early twenties lifted a large bulky camera onto his right shoulder. "It's Ambore right? How do you spell that?"

"Ambrose." Kyle corrected her and promptly spelt his name. The cameraman tapped a few buttons on the side of his camera while the reporter stood next to Kyle and glanced at her cameraman who counted down from one to three on his fingers before waving his hand in a circle, signaling for the interview to begin.

"I'm Melissa Lopez's Channel 6 News reporting from Fort Pastor during the very strange and scary events that have been taking place all around the United States, parts of Canada, Mexico and even the United Kingdom. I'm here with First Lieutenant Kyle Ambrose of the United States Marines Corps who is seemingly in charge of things around here. Tell me, Mr. Ambrose, how are you managing to keep things so secure around here?"

"First off," Kyle began. "It's Kyle. I'm not married, so there is no Mr. Ambrose." He said with total seriousness. "Secondly, we keep things so safe by keeping things here under control. Nobody makes any sudden and/or hostile movements or else you get shot without warning. When approaching the Fort, keep your hands above your head and move slowly. It's all about just keeping things under control."

"I see..." The new reporter - Melissa - slowly nodded. "Well, Kyle," She was careful not to use 'Mr. Ambrose' again. "what exactly is your job around here?"

"I'm a sniper." He responded rather bluntly.

The interview continued for the next fifteen minutes; a series of different questions were asked such as how many soldiers were positioned at Fort Pastor, what weaponry and vehicles were deployed here, how many search and rescues would be performed etc. Kyle was really unsure of a lot of the questions, but answered them to the best of his knowledge. Finally, it seemed things were coming to a close.

"Well, we're gonna have to wrap this up soon here, Kyle. Are there any last words you'd like to give to anybody out there? Sentimental words to family, friends or just advice to civilians?"

Kyle sighed again. He wasn't much for this kind of stuff and had been uncomfortable and fidgety the whole interview. He cleared his throat before he glanced at the mic that she held to him and spoke.

"Well... Mom, if you're watching this, stay at home okay? The military will be deploying search and rescue teams in Ohio soon so if you and Frank keep yourselves locked up, you'll be fine." He said, a bit unsure of his own words. The thought of leaving his Mother in the care of his Step Father made him a bit uneasy. Frank was a brave man, but not much of a fighter really. Kyle wasn't even sure if his Step Father knew how to use a gun.

"And any civilians should do the same. Lock your doors and wait for law enforcement or military patrol teams to find you. Self defense is heavily advised unless of course your sure that the people coming toward you aren't hostile. Law enforcement and military teams will not run at you or be unarmed and will always be in heavy body armor. Be wary and follow their directions down to the smallest detail."

Melissa pulled the mic back to her and nodded at him, smiling. "You heard it here everyone. Stay indoors and defend yourself if necessary. This is Melissa Lopez of the Channel 6 News crew reporting from Fort Pastor. We'll have more details to you as they develop."

And with that, the interview came to a close. Melissa turned away from the camera to speak personally to the First Lieutenant, but frowned as she realized he was gone. Kyle had already disappeared into the crowd of soldiers and civilians that made up Fort Pastor, returning to his post.


	2. Chapter 2: Fort Pastor Down

**Author's Note:** Blargh! Curse you letters and words xD

The only real thing I'd like to address right now is that Kyle is a **First** Lieutenant, _not_ a Second. Unfortunately, I seem to like typing Second more for some reason. Anyhoo, yeah. First Lieutenant, not Second. Sorry for any confusion and please tell me where those mistakes are from now on, thank you :D

* * *

Gunshots rang out all over Fort Pastor.

It was the late day and somehow, someway, the infected humans had begun to overrun the temporary military base, breaching unseen gaps in the defense. Kyle was still positioned in his sniper tower, M21 sweeping the immediate area. He selected his target - one of three people currently mauling a soldier - and slowly eased the trigger back. The infected individual on the farthest right, a chubby balding man crumpled as a .308 bullet passed through his skull, turning his brain into red mist. He quickly dropped the other two in three seconds with equally well placed shots before turning his attention away.

He took aim upon a small group of four infected chasing an African American. He aimed for the legs on the one in the lead and successfully brought three to the ground before sending three more rounds into the one who'd avoided the pile-ups chest, throat and head. He quickly returned to the fallen infected and put a single 7.62 round through each of their skulls.

Meanwhile, the other soldiers were doing their jobs well too. Many infected dropped as rounds passed through their bodies, from both soldiers in the towers and soldiers on the ground. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to matter how many infected were put down because two more just took ones place. Kyle swore as he emptied his second magazine and quickly ejected the spent box from the rifle. Two magazines after this one. Kyle told himself as he jammed another twenty-round magazine into his weapon.

"Fucking Christ!" The Lance Corporal in the tower next to him said over their microphones. "They're everywhere, I can't fucking tell who's infected and who's not with everybody running around like this!"

"Just keep your cool, Stephen." Kyle said, abandoning formalities in an attempt to the calm the young marksman down.

"Easy for you to say." Miller shot back.

"Goddammit, Stephen, just shut the fuck up and keep your cool! Focus on keeping the people below safe, got it? That's an order!" Kyle barked, losing his already low patience with his junior officer.

"Who do we keep safe though?"

Kyle didn't respond. He was busy scoping out one of the eight infected who had surrounded the Channel 6 News van. They were rocking the vehicle relentlessly, desperate to get inside. That wasn't what caught his attention though; what did was that the news reporter was still inside. He frowned and took aim, pumping out eight rounds and dropping six of the infected he could get clear shots at. He then stepped back from his rifle and turned toward Miller who was in the tower to his left. He brought his hand to his ear piece.

"Miller. I've got someone you can keep safe." Kyle said.

"Who?" Miller asked.

When Kyle didn't answer, the Lance Corporal asked again, this time pleadingly. "Who, Kyle? Who?"

"Me." By this time, Kyle had his boots on the concrete, the butt of an M4A1 carbine planted firmly against his right shoulder. "Cover me, Stephen. I'm gonna get that reporter out of that van and up to my tower."

"Jesus... Y-yeah, I got your back Kyle." Miller answered, though he sounded a bit doubtful.

"Just keep cool, Stephen. Game face." Kyle said and began to move forward, his carbine burping out small bursts of automatic fire into people who came running at him while Miller picked off a few who tried to come from the First Lieutenant's blindsides.

It wasn't that far from the tower to the van, a good forty or so yards perhaps. Moving quickly with Miller's cover, Kyle managed to cross the distance in a little over three minutes. As he got closed to the van, he dropped to one knee and took aim at the small group of infected surrounding the van, who took notice of him quite quickly. About thirteen rounds later, the van was clear. He moved forward as quickly and cautiously as possible to the passenger window.

He peered inside and spotted the news reporter, knees pulled to her chest and shaking in fear. He lightly rapped his knuckles against the window. Her head snapped toward him and her eyes widened. He mouthed the words 'open the door' to her. Anxiously, she clambered over the passenger seat and unlocked the door. As Kyle pulled the door back, he felt strong hands grip his tactical vest and yank him back as his carbine slid from his grip, the weight of the weapon falling onto his shoulder. The First Lieutenant lost his balance and toppled over, swearing loudly.

Kyle was on his back, grunting as he wrestled with a large bald man who had had his right cheek and part of his face torn away. Although Kyle could get a good grip on his M4, he couldn't angle it right to get a shot that would be worth it. He slid his left arm forward, locking his forearm underneath the man's chin. Blood dribbled down the man's chin as his jaws snapped. The marksman's right hand slid up to his left shoulder and his fingers curled around the handle of a large knife, thumb unhooking the restraint that kept it locked securely inside of its sheath.

With a quick and easy movement, eight inches of high carbon steel slid through the infected man's jaw and up into the bottom of his brain cavity. Immediately, what life was left in his eyes faded and his body went limp. Kyle pushed the man off before removing his OCK-3S bayonet from the cranium and wiping the blood off on his pants. Without anymore hesitation, he scrambled to his feet and into the Channel 6 News van, shutting the door and locking it instantly.

"Are you alright!" The news reporter exclaimed, eyes wide with terror and voice panicky.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Kyle responded as he ejected the near empty M4 magazine and replaced it with a fresh one. He then turned to the reporter - Melissa - and spoke calmly.

"Alright, you have to follow me closely alright? We're gonna get out of this van and-"

"Are you fucking crazy!" Melissa snapped. "I'm not getting out of this van!"

Kyle grunted and reached out, gripping her wrist loosely. "Listen, Melissa. We have to get out of this van. It's not safe here. If you come with me back to my sniper post, you'll be safe. I promise you."

The Hispanic woman stared at him hard, uncertainty dancing in her eyes. She came to a decision and slowly nodded her head. "A-alright..."

"Good." Kyle gave her a weak smile and turned to open the door. As he did, another infected flung themselves against the window, eyes wide and jaws snapping. As Ambrose prepared to fling open the door and push the infected man back, blood splashed across the glass and the man's body fell. Kyle blinked and opened the door, looking out at his savior.

The one who'd fired was another soldier - a Sergeant - that Kyle instantly recognized. Logan Wallace was one of Kyle's oldest and greatest friends. They'd been through hell and back. Ambrose stepped out of the van and shot the Sergeant a big grin. "Sergeant."

"Lieutenant." Logan returned and lowered his M9 handgun. Unlike Kyle, Logan's primary weapon was an M16A3 which was currently slung carefully around his body. "Sir, if I may, I suggest we get the fuck out of Dodge."

"Agreed." Kyle nodded and brought his carbine up once more as Melissa stepped out behind him. "Looks like we've got some back-up, Melissa." The First Lieutenant said, motioning toward his brown haired friend. "We're better than safe now. Let's move."

The trio moved quickly across Fort Pastor, Kyle and Logan firing multiple rounds from each of their guns. Kyle would hold the trigger of his M4 down for a few seconds, letting out small bursts of fire while Logan's M9 swept around, single, well placed shots being fired. They were about halfway to Kyle's sniper tower when something struck him.

Where's Miller's cover fire...?

Hesitantly, Kyle raised his carbine and looked through the scope at Miller's tower. Much to his horror, the Lance Corporals back was pressed up against the railing, his rifle up against the throat of a blond woman with a blood soaked t-shirt, struggling to keep her away from him. Kyle grimaced at the sight.

"Kyle, what're you doing? C'mon!" Logan said as he fired two rounds at a soldier who'd come running at them; one to his chest and one just below his nose. The Sergeant ejected the empty magazine and reached for another.

The First Lieutenant, however, hadn't taken notice of his friend's actions and had barely registered his words. As Logan spoke, he watched as two more infected - two males - climbed up into Miller's post. They reached the Lance Corporal and tore his rifle away from him. Stephen grabbed the nearest infected and began to lean backwards, his weight combined with the infected man's sending him over the railing and plummeting thirty feet below. Kyle swore and lowered his carbine.

"-come on, let's get the hell out of here!" The last part of Logan's sentence registered in Ambrose's brain.

"Right..." Kyle said grimly. Luckily, his mind was in working order despite what he'd witnessed. "Change of plan." Then he quickly began to scan the area, searching desperately for a vehicle.

He quickly focused in a large, green camouflage colored Humvee. Kyle turned to Logan who nodded. "Take Melissa," Ambrose motioned toward the news reporter. "to that Humvee. Get it and jack it, then we'll get the hell outta here. Sound like a plan?"

Logan nodded, lips twisting into a grin. It was just like the old days.

"Good. I need to go get my rifle. I'll catch up with you guys in a-"

"Are you crazy!" Melissa exclaimed. "Forget the stupid rifle and come with us!"

"Heh, you don't know if Kyle's crazy or not?" Logan asked, laughing. "You obviously don't know Kyle very well. Come on, Kyle'll be fine. He's a crazy son of a bitch, but he's good."

"Same to you, buddy." Kyle smirked before he moved off toward his post as originally planned, while Logan and Melissa - albeit a bit hesitantly - made their way toward the parked Humvee.

Kyle moved swiftly, as quickly as he could without attracting much attention. By the time he reached the tower, he'd emptied the magazine in his M4 and scowled. He dropped the weapon's weight to his shoulder and began to climb up the ladder. Less than a minute later, he was inside the top of the tower. He grabbed his M21 and checked the magazine.

"Twelve rounds left." Kyle told himself and slapped the magazine back in before slinging the rifle over his left shoulder, opposite to the one that held his M4A1. Before departing, he grabbed the two empty magazines he'd ejected from the rifle earlier. No sense in letting them go to waste, especially since they could be refilled. As he made his way to climb down, a brown haired man with a missing eye surprised him. Scowling, Ambrose lashed out with his right leg and smashed his foot into the man's good eye. The infected lost his grip on the ladder and fell back, smashing into the ground below a couple seconds later with a sickening smack!

Kyle on the other hand made his way down the ladder as quickly as possible without losing his grip. Thirty seconds later, he was on the ground. The body of the man he'd kicked off the ladder was sprawled out awkwardly, lying in a puddle of his own blood. Without sparing a second glance, Kyle began to make his way toward the Humvee he'd sent Logan and Melissa off to.

In the meantime, he drew his own M9 handgun and fired off 9mm rounds at the infected that came toward him, following instructions and advice he'd been given by superiors and aimed for the shoulders and above. He fired two more rounds at a charging man, one round hitting him in the chest while the second grazed the side of his neck. When Kyle pulled the trigger again, nothing happened. Then he noticed the slide was still back. The First Lieutenant's eyes widened as he realized it was too late to react. He prepared himself for impact as the man got within five feet.

The front of a Humvee smashed into the man's side, crumpling his body against it before the vehicle slid to a stop and sent the body flying a few feet. The passenger door flung open and Logan sat at steering wheel with a serious look. "Get in!"

Without missing a beat, Kyle dashed forward and threw himself into the car, tossing the handgun to the floorboard as he tore his M4 and M21 from his body before slamming the door shut. Logan floored it and the engine roared as he veered forward, ramming into and running over infected as the MPH needle quickly climbed to seventy-five. The Humvee easily smashed through a thin fence off to the side and tore up a nearby hill, kicking up grass and mud behind it.

Kyle exhaled deeply as his eyes fell shut. He counted to five in his mind before turning to the driver. "Where're we going?" He asked.

"St. Verbena." The Sergeant responded, keeping his eyes on the road, or rather the field.

"That old church?" Kyle blinked, remembering it being mentioned as a rally point at the mission briefing.

"Yeah." Melissa answered from the backseat. Kyle twisted and saw her sitting behind Logan, seat belt strapped across her body. "Um... One of my co-workers, uh... Alan. He said it was pretty safe there."

"Hmm..." Ambrose frowned. "How long ago was that?"

"Um... I dunno. Sometime this morning I guess." The Hispanic news reporter shrugged her shoulders.

"This morning?" Kyle cocked an eyebrow. "You do realize that just an hour ago Fort Pastor was considered completely safe, right?"

"Yeah, but that's Fort Pastor." Melissa said.

The First Lieutenant only shook his head. "St. Verbena. Alrightie then." He told himself before he reached down and grabbed his M9, ejecting the empty magazine and replacing it with a fresh one.

* * *

"Holy shit!" Logan jerked the steering wheel to the right as he hit the brakes.

They were a good forty feet away from the church and could clearly see that it was surrounded by infected who were trying hungrily to get inside. It seems that law enforcement had given up long ago. Kyle frowned and glanced back at Melissa who was staring at the scene with wide eyes.

"So what'd we do?" Logan asked and looked over at Kyle.

"Why're you asking me? I know exactly what you wanna do." Kyle replied.

"Heh..." Logan grinned. "You know me too well, Kyle." He laughed and began to backup about twenty feet.

A few seconds later, he floored the petal and gunned the Humvee forward at full speed. Many of the infected had taken notice of the engines loud noise and ran at the large vehicle. Logan easily ran them down, the Hummer rocking back and forth as it ran over human speed bumps. In the back seat, Melissa gripped what she could so hard her knuckles turned white, strangely quiet.

The Humvee began to slow though as the crowd thickened. They dropped down from ninety to thirty in about ten seconds and the speed was only going down. They managed to get close to one of the church's doors, about ten or so feet away, as they came to a complete stop. The Hummer rocked back and forth as the crowd attacked it, scratching at the windows and trying their best to flip the vehicle. Logan turned to Kyle. "What'd you say we get into the church?"

"Sounds like a good plan to me." Kyle responded, smiling.

"Wait. What?" Melissa unbuckled her seatbelt, letting out a small yell as a chubby man pressed himself up against her window, gasping and trying to scratch the window apart. She climbed into the center of the vehicle and leaned between the two front seats. "How're we supposed to get in?"

"Well... If they're any survivors, which there probably are, they'll hear the gunfire." Logan explained as he lifted his M16. "And they'll open the doors for us so we can get in."

Melissa stared at him wide eyed. "And if there's not survivors inside the church?" She asked weakly.

"Well..." Kyle and Logan exchanged looks. Both soldiers shrugged before turning back to Melissa. "I guess we're fucked."

The news reporter opened her mouth to protest, but Logan squeezed the trigger of his rifle back and sprayed the wind shield with automatic fire. Despite its bullet proof design, the glass cracked, spider webbing out everywhere until they couldn't see through it. The Sergeant lifted his leg and kicked hard, making a large hold in the broken glass.

"I'll take point! Kyle, you take the rear; Melissa, you stay between us!" Logan shouted and kicked away, destroying enough of the glass so that he could climb out. He scrambled forward, keeping a tight grip on his M16.

Kyle glanced through the remaining side of the wind shield and saw Logan lift his rifle, spraying automatic fire at the infected who attempted to come after him.

"Go, go, go!" Kyle shouted and Melissa quickly made her way outside as well. Ambrose gathered up his weapons in the meantime and climbed out after her about four seconds later.

"Why aren't they opening the doors!" Melissa screamed as Kyle and Logan sprayed multiple 5.56 rounds into the crowds of infected who were screaming for their blood.

"That's a damn good question!" Logan shouted as he swung his rifle around, smashing the butt of it into the jaw of a one armed woman who tried to climb onto the hood of the car.

A few seconds later, one of the large wooden doors swung open and a red headed man stuck his head out. His eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets as he took in the scene. He stepped halfway out the door and began to shout. "Come on! Hurry! Hurry!" as he waved his arms, beckoning the trio to come toward him. A moment later, an elderly man joined him.

"I'll take point this time!" Kyle said and emptying his M4 on the few infected who were infront of the car. He then jumped down and helped Melissa down. Both then made a mad dash for the door.

Kyle stopped as they reached the door and turned, expecting to see Logan right behind him. Unfortunately, the Sergeant was still on the roof of the Humvee. Kyle's eyes went wide.

"Logan!" He shouted and jammed a fresh magazine into his M4. "Come on! Hurry, I'll cover you!"

Logan shouted something back, but Kyle couldn't hear him.

Kyle crouched to one knee again and took aim, placing the butt of against his shoulder. The weapon kicked lightly as it burped out burst rounds into the crowd. He could see his friend scowling before he jumped down and sprinted toward the church's doors. The First Lieutenant dropped a few infected who gave chase with burst rounds to their torso's and up. As Logan reached the doors, they hastily made their way in and slammed the doors shut. The red head and elderly man instantly began to push a large pew across the doors, effectively blocking it from being opened.

"Ah, fuck..." Logan swore, but Kyle couldn't turn to him to see why.

"Are you three alright?" The red head man asked, staring at them.

"Yeah, I'm fine..." Ambrose said, panting.

"S-scared.. But o-okay." Melissa responded, hands to her chest as he leaned against the wall.

"Yeah..." Logan said half heartedly.

"You're bleeding." The elderly man pointed out.

"It's fine... Just a bite. Fucker tore off a good chunk outta my arm." Logan shrugged as he stared as his wounded arm. "Nothing too serious though, I'll be fine."

"Well, we should still get it wrapped up until you can get some proper medical treatment. I've got some old robes in the back that're usually used for Baptisms. We can cut them up and use them as a make-shift cast I suppose."

"Thanks." Logan nodded and followed after the man Kyle assumed was the owner.

"He's the Pastor?" Melissa asked, seemingly reading the young First Lieutenant's mind.

"Huh?" The red head man blinked then shook his head. "Oh no, Glen's an organ player." The man smiled then gave both of them a smile as he extended a hand. "The name's Frank." He said as he shook both of the new comer's hands.

"Kyle Ambrose." The soldier said, giving the red haired man a quick smile.

"I'm Mel-"

"Melissa Lopez." A young man with red hair stood up beside a younger looking girl. If Kyle had to guess, he'd say they were related. "Oh my God..." The man laughed and his cheeks flushed. "I'm a big fan." From the look on the girl's face, she was just as star struck as the boy.

"Oh." Melissa flashed the two an awkward smile and raised her hand, slowly waggling her fingers. "Hiya."

"Well Matt, Nicole don't gawk." Frank laughed and motioned for the girl to come over. "Come 'ere and meet her."

Both stepped out into the walkway and hastily came over to the trio of survivors and extended their hands toward Melissa. Kyle turned away as the reporter reached out to shake their hands and began to walk away, looking for him and Logan to put their weapons. He was intercepted by a large man with a red colored plad shirt, denim shorts and a pair of sandals. He had a ginger colored mullet, was a bit on the shorter side, had a beer gut and was wielding a lever action rifle. The way his lips were moving, Kyle assumed he was probably chewing on a large wad of tobacco.

"You with the Army?" The man asked.

"The Marines." Kyle responded.

"Hell yes!" The man grinned, showing yellowish colored teeth. "I knew the ol' red white and blue would send out the soldiers soon! I knew it!" He wooted and cheered. The others in the church turned and looked at the man's celebration.

"So." The man turned and grabbed Kyle's right hand, giving it a very firm shake. "The name's Tim Morgan." He said before releasing the soldier. "So what'd you bring along, soldier? You got the rest of yer calvary out there waitin'?"

Kyle frowned. "Um..." The First Lieutenant shook his head and offered a weak smile. "Sorry to burst your bubble, but it's only me and Logan."

Tim's expression darkened. "What?"

"There's only the two of us. Sorry." Kyle shrugged before stepping beside the man.

"W-wait!" Tim turned and followed after him. "Th-then're you two some special agents or somethin'? You know, the big guys on top send you two out here 'cause yer the best of the best."

"Nope." Kyle replied, rolling his eyes. "Logan and I are just two regular soldiers who happened to survive just like everybody else here."

Tim groaned in disbelief. He turned and walked away from the First Lieutenant, obviously disappointed in the turn-out of events and the government all together. As the redneck continued ranting and raving, Kyle set his guns down. As he did, he began to think of all the events that had conspired within the past month. Everything that had happened today, the call he'd gotten from his biological Father and the conversation that had followed, the hunting trip with Robbie and his cousin, breaking up with Jennifer, ending his leave from the military far earlier than planned, talking to his frantic Mother and Step Father before being shipped out to Fort Pastor and finally attending his sister's funeral.

He could clearly picture Angie in his mind. Round face, a small nose, gorgeous and rare colored violet eyes like the ones their Grandmother had had, her shoulder length black hair. Kyle squeezed his eyes shut as he felt tears forming. The pain of losing her was still all too real. He remembered getting the call in the early morning hours; the sorrow and grief in the police chief's voice pained, the-

Ambrose sighed and forced the thoughts from his mind. He couldn't dwell on the past right this moment. He had to focus on the right here and now. He had a job to do; these people needed his help. Still. In the back of his mind, he couldn't help but worry about the things that had happened. His Mother flashed in his mind and he bit his bottom lip. After this is all over. He thought. Just please have stayed inside...

He once again banished the thoughts from his mind before starting a check of his weaponry; the amount of ammunition, seeing if any damage had been done, whether they needed cleaning or not. After a few moments, he stood up. He could hear the people outside scratching at the walls and windows. Kyle took a deep cleansing breath. He then turned around and began to walk toward the other survivors.

He was sent into this situation to protect these people. It was his job and mission. Even if Fort Pastor and the forces set-up here were gone, rescue would be coming soon. They'd send in reinforcements.

At least, that's what Kyle hoped.


	3. Chapter 3: St Verbena Massacre

**Author's Notes:** Bleh. Sorry about taking so long to write Chapter 3 people who're actually reading this story regularly. I don't have as much time on my hands as I thought, so I do the majority of my writing on the weekends. I'll _try_ to have a chapter out each week, but no promises.

* * *

Sleep hadn't come easy for the First Lieutenant. He'd spent most of the night going over plans and plots in his head for escape, whether or not things were escalating outside of this town, how much the so-called 'infection' had spread and about the past. Eventually though, the soldier's eyes had fallen shut and he had drifted off to the world of dreams. Sleep time was short though, as expected, and Kyle was up and about in a little under four hours after falling sleep. During his time there he'd done a good job of remembering who was who.

There was the first man who'd helped them, Frank. He was a taller lanky man with bright orange hair and was very kind. He had two children, Matt and Nicole, the two red headed teenagers that had gawked at Melissa when he and her had come in. Those two were alright, though, Nicole was a bit to herself while Matt was very social and happy despite what was going on.

Then there was Glen, the elderly organ player. He was a gentle man, soft spoken and just as kind as Frank. He was always going around and doing what he could to help despite his age. There was also Steve Marcus, a brown haired man in a suit. He was pretty much a rich asshole who didn't seem to give a shit about the others. There was also Louis Christopher. He was a younger kid, in his mid-teens and a bit of a computer nerd. And then there was Tim Morgan, the hick of a man who had personally introduced himself to Kyle. Finally, there of course Melissa, Logan and Kyle himself.

Not much of a task force, but who could complain? At least they weren't shambling around trying to tear your flesh apart. Then again, there weapon supply wasn't the best either.

An M4A1 Carbine, an M16A3 assault rifle, two M9 handguns, an M21 sniper rifle, A Winchester Model 1901 shotgun (it turned out Tim's rifle was actually a shotgun), a Colt M1911, a Browning Hi-Power pistol, a Remington 870 modified to fire beanbags (not of much use) and a handful of tear gas grenades. Ammunition was in short supply for all the weapons and there supply of melee weaponry was rather pitiful as well; both soldier's bayonet's, a baseball bat, a boy axe(which Frank had used to create the barricade infront of the door) and a police baton.

From what information Kyle could gather, it appeared that everything had begun to fall apart soon after parts of the riot squad moved onto deal with other problems. After that, the police officers that had been present at St. Verbena began to fight a battle they'd already lost against the 'infected rioters.' What officers could retreated, seeming to forget about the civilians trapped in the church.

A few officers had decided to stay, doing the best they could to put up a defense, but eventually decided to take shelter inside as everyone else had. By the time the chaos was over, there only nineteen people left in the church - four of which were police officers. Others had tried to flee or just disappeared. As the day dragged on however, people got up onto the roof and tried to escape using the alley in the back, went out through the back door and one person had even shot themselves inside of the church.

In the end, only Frank and his kids - Matt and Nicole - Glen, Steve, Louis and Tim remained. Near the end of the day, the trio had shown up and added to their ranks.

Glen was talking into the CB, pleading for assistance. He'd been doing so since Kyle had woken up. Apparently it was what he spent most of his time doing while Louis helped when he could. He occasionally got responses, most of them telling him to abandon the church, that everyone there was fucked anyways, hold down as long as they could and enjoy their remaining life and other things to those extents. Mostly just crazy people talking in hysterics.

"So what's the plan?"

Kyle turned toward Sergeant Logan Wallace and frowned. "What'd you mean?"

"You know what I mean Kyle." Logan said. "Do you have a plan to get out of here or not?"

"Um..."

"Didn't think so."

"Well," Kyle cleared his throat. "maybe we should just stay here and try to hold out. I'm sure help'll be arriving soon."

"Oh yeah, because that's exactly what's gonna happen. We just sit here and hold out and at the last possible second, our friends on top are gonna come riding in on a bunch of white horses and save our asses." Logan scowled and rolled his eyes. "Come Kyle, you know what the people in control do. They don't give a shit about us, they're gonna try to cover their own asses in a situation like this. Every man for himself, ya know?"

Kyle only grunted in response. As much as he hated to admit it, most - if not all - of the people within the White House, House of Representatives and such were only concerned with themselves, the money could make and their families. Usually in that order too.

But he still had hope that someone would come. Anybody actually. Soldiers, law enforcement, a group of civilians. Someone that could help them. Kyle just wasn't going to accept that nobody at all was coming.

"Anyways," The Sergeant continued. "I went onto the roof and checked up on the Humvee. It's still in working order, but it's not going anywhere unless we can clear a path for it."

Kyle frowned at his friend's words. "You want to go out there and try to drive everyone away in the Humvee?"

"Like I said, if we could clear a path for it, we could get out of here."

"And how exactly are we gonna do that? We don't have enough bullets to clear the path and judging from what happened earlier, the gas grenades won't do shit."

Earlier in the day, everyone had gone out onto the roof for experimentation. It had been Louis's idea and he'd had Kyle set-up his rifle and shot at the infected's torsos. He fired four rounds into four separate individuals, but the bullets only seemed to stunned them. However, when he'd fired a round through one's forehead, it dropped do the ground and stayed there. Louis had concluded his theory was correct and then had thrown a grenade down into the crowd to test it's effect. When it went off, everyone had heard moans and groans from the crowd. The grenade had bothered them, but it hadn't driven them away. Once again, Louis said his theory was proven to be correct.

Logan opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by an unfamiliar voice. Both soldiers turned toward Glen who was now standing infront of the radio. "Hello? You still there?"

A woman was talking through the speaker.

"Y-yes! My name is Glen Richards, an organ player at the St. Verbena church." Glen spoke hurriedly. "Listen, um, th-there's..." He paused, doing a mental count as he glanced back at everyone who was staring nervously. "Nine people here. There's a big crowd of people outside, not good people. We need help as soon as possible."

There was a short pause before the voice replied.

"Alrightie Glen. I know where that is. The name's Norma and I'm about thirty or so minutes away from there buddy. Start getting ready for pick-up. I'm in a big rig so I'm gonna swing around the back. You've got about thirty seconds to get everyone inside and the door closed before I start movin' again. Be ready for me. Over and out, Glen."

With this, the radio went silent again. The silence though was soon shattered, replaced with whoops and cheers of joy.

"Yeah, we're gonna get outta here!"

"Woo hoo, great job Glen!"

Yeeeaaahhh! Finally, some hope!"

However, Louis looked a bit upset. Kyle frowned and walked over to the teenager and sat down. Louis glanced at him with a scowl.

"What's wrong?" Kyle asked.

"That should be me getting the cheers, goddammit." Louis said, mumbling something to himself. "The stupid old man would've give up the radio when I asked."

The First Lieutenant laughed lightly and gave the teen nudge and smiled. "Don't worry about it, kid. Sometimes popularity isn't all it's cracked up to be."

Louis sighed and slumped a bit. "Yeah, yeah... It's just annoying because if he'd just handed over the damn radio, I'd be the one getting the praise, not him. I've never gotten praise before. Well, besides from my Mother, but she doesn't count."

"Of course your Mother counts." Kyle arched an eyebrow. "She's a person isn't she?"

"Yeah, but Mom's are supposed to do that kinda thing... Right?"

"Well, not exactly. They don't _have_ to, but they do because they love you and care. They're proud of your accomplishments."

"Mmm... I guess so. But still." Louis sighed and propped his head up with his hand. "This sucks."

"Like I said, man, don't worry about it. Glen's old, managing the CB radio is one of the only things he can do. You, you're still young and able bodied. You can get around and do all kinds of stuff. And besides, I've seen you working on the radio a few times when it got kinda jittery on the old man. If you hadn't fixed it, we wouldn't have been able to get in contact with that woman."

"Heh..." The teen smiled weakly and nodded. "Yeah, I guess so." He laughed lightly and nodded a second time. "Thanks Kyle."

"No problem man." Kyle smiled and stood up then held a hand out to the younger male. "Come on, let's go start helping the others though. You heard the lady, we've only got thirty minutes until we're getting the hell outta here."

Louis grinned and grabbed the soldier's hand, allowing himself to be pulled up with ease. "Yeah!"

And work they did. As much as everyone wanted to throw a celebration, there was no time for a party; there was still lots of work to be done. After gathering what meager supplies the group had and placing them on a table that had been set-up in the middle of the church, a quick half-baked plan was thrown together.

Logan and Tim would move out first, armed with the weapons they'd come to the church with. Meanwhile, Frank and Matt would move out next, each equipped with the M1911 and beanbag shotgun respectively. Louis, Glen and Steve would follow, Louis armed with the Hi-Power handgun while Glen and Steve would be armed with the baseball bat and boy axe. Steve had complained about not receiving a gun, but his cries had been ignored because Louis revealed he had won a couple of trophies in shooting competitions his Father had taken him to. Finally then, Kyle, Nicole and Melissa, who'd be armed with Kyle's M9, would come out and make their way to the truck as fast as possible. Not the best plan, but it would work.

Hopefully.

Weapons and supplies were distributed and everyone began going over the plan for a fourth time, just making sure everyone in the group got it down while minor details and kinks were worked out. Norma's voice once again sounded over the CB though halfway through.

"Okay Glen, I'm moving a bit faster than expected. You've got about two minutes until I get there 'cause I just swung around the corner of Sixth and Seventh street. Get your asses ready."

With this news, everyone began to quickly scramble to get things finished. Everyone began to line up by the back door as was expected; Logan and Tim infront, weapons ready, Frank and Matt behind them, ready and willing as well while Louis, Glen and Steve were prepared behind them. Kyle was just slinging the backpack with the gas grenade and a large percentage of their supplies over his shoulder when the roars from a large truck engine came from the front side of the church. Logan placed his hand on the backdoor's handle, gripping the handle of his M16 tightly and glanced at Tim who nodded slowly, body tense.

As the truck rolled past one of the boarded up windows, Logan flung open the door. Immediately, hell began to break loose.

Logan opened fired after taking about four steps outside, Tim following his lead. Automatic and lever-action fire were sounding from outside, screams of the infected mixing with it. Next, Frank and Matt moved. They followed as close as they could to the first duo, firing off rounds when they needed to. A few seconds later, the trio of Louis, Glen and Steve made their way outside. While the two girls tensed, Kyle stayed calm by counting to eight in his head.

"Alright, let's go!" The Lieutenant shouted before moving outside, bringing his M4 upwards.

There was a good six feet between each of the small groups. Norma's big rig was parked about four feet away from Logan and Tim who were a good thirty or so feet ahead of Kyle and his group. Gunfire and screams filled Kyle's ears, but he ignored it and moved forward, lightly tugging the trigger of his weapon back and burping burst rounds into the infected who closed in on his group.

Logan and Tim reached the truck, flinging open the tall door and quickly climbed inside and began to provide cover fire for the remainders of their group. Everyone moved forward as quickly as possible, doing their best to hold of the threat that surrounded them. Luckily, the numbers behind the church had been fewer then the number of those infront. Unfortunately, Kyle could already make out the screams of the infected from the front beginning to make their way around the building to where their food source was trying to escape.

Frank and Matt made it to the truck as well and also began to give the others cover fire. Meanwhile, Kyle turned on the crowd of infected who had began to come around the building and opened fire, aiming high. Many in the front began to drop and trip the ones behind them, but Kyle knew better than to focus on them for too-

A scream.

A _human_ scream.

Kyle whirled around just in time to see an infected elderly lady pulling Matt from the truck. Frank immediately dashed over to his son, eyes wide and fired at the woman. With a shriek, the woman released Matt and reeled back. More infected began to take her place though, grabbing the poor boy by his legs. Frank continued to fire until his gun ran dry, then he chucked the weapon at the nearest infected and sent it stumbling back while he tried to pull his son further into the truck. More infected moved in.

Kyle grimaced, but returned his attention to the two he had to take care of. Melissa raised the handgun he'd given her awkwardly and fired. The slide stayed back and she stared at it wide-eyed.

"Just go!" Kyle said and gave her a light shove. Both females nodded and sprinted forward as the Louis, Glen and Steve made it to the truck.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Kyle, Melissa and Nicole made it. The soldier made sure the females were on before he began to scramble up and inside. As he did though, he felt something - or rather someone - grab his backpack. He lost his balance and began to tumble backwards until Logan grabbed him.

"Cut the straps!" He screamed. "Cut the fucking straps!"

Kyle instantly complied, sliding his bayonet out of it's sheath. The sharp edge easily passed through the left strap and with a simple twist of his body, the right strap slid off his arm and set a Chinese man tumbling backwards, ripping and tearing at the pack. Another infected however, jumped forward. Logan shoved his M16 forward and tore the trigger back. 5.56 rounds ripped through the infected's body. Unfortunately, the backpack was directly behind the infected being gunned down.

A few bullets later and the gas grenades inside began to burst, a large burst of smoke beginning to spread. Kyle brought his arm to his mouth and covered both air passageways as to not inhale the gas. Meanwhile, he could hear someone coughing intensely before the loud thunk of someone falling on metal sounded.

As Logan began to retract the gun, an infected grabbed the barrel of the rifle and yanked hard. Even Kyle could feel the strength of the pull, having both Logan and himself sliding back and toward the large doorway to hell. Logan quickly released the weapon, willing to let it go instead of being pulled out with it. The Sergeant swore as he began to pull Kyle further in the truck's hull.

Suddenly, the truck began to lurch forward.

"Close the door!" Someone screamed.

Melissa and Glen moved forward, grabbing the top of the truck's door and dragging it down. The door shut and locked with a satisfying click as the truck picked up speed. Kyle's eyes fell shut as he inhaled and exhaled heavily, gasping for breath.

"M-Matt..." A voice whimpered.

Kyle shot up, but quickly dropped back down as the feeling of light-headedness fell over him. His eyes began to water and he squeezed them shut. It seemed that he'd be suffering from the minor effects of the grenade for a few moments. And as expected, a few moments later, he could sit up without being in pain.

Glen, Nicole, Melissa, Steve, Frank... a blond woman and an obese woman with a large chunk of her arm missing.

"Wh-where're Louis and Matt? And Tim?"

Logan bit his lower lip.

"Tim and Matt... got pulled out of the truck. Tim was trying to help Matt, but they grabbed his head and jerked him out and..." Logan shook his head. "And Louis rolled out when the grenades went off. The gas got to him and apparently triggered an asthma attack or something. I dunno..."

Kyle stared wide-eyed at his friend, mouth slack jawed. How? When? No... Things had been planned; plans weren't supposed to go... No. Plans did go wrong. Kyle knew that. They'd gone wrong before, what stopped them from going wrong this time? Nothing. That was three more people Kyle had gotten to know taken from him by this plague. He sighed and laid back down, breathing evenly. He could hear Frank and Nicole whispering to each other quietly. Soon enough though, it turned into sobbing as they mourned for their lost family member. He cringed slightly at the noise.

_I wonder if Mom thinks I'm dead... I wonder if _she's_ dead. Is she crying because she thinks I'm dead? Will I cry if I find out she's dead?_ He exhaled again.

The truck went over what was probably rough terrain and it jumped, sending the people inside rocking. Logan swore under his breath and leaned up against the side of the truck. Kyle sat up and looked around.

Frank and Nicole were huddled up in the right corner farthest from the truck's door, mourning. Steve was leaned up against one of the hull's walls, checking himself for injuries. Logan was lying down now, injured arm over his eyes. The blond woman was doing what Kyle was doing; examining everyone. The obese woman was lying on her side, gripping her wounded arm and moaning lightly in her sleep. Melissa was closest to Kyle, knees hugged up to her chest. Kyle let out a sigh and lied back down, silently mourning.

Mourning for Tim, Louis and Matt. Mourning for all the people that had died during this suddenly epidemic - whether he knew them or not. Mourning for his Mother who was possibly dead. Mourning for his younger sister Angie, who had been spared this whole situation by dying just a little under two weeks ago. And for anyone else he'd forgotten.

Silently, everyone in the truck was mourning in their own way.


	4. Chapter 4: Bumpy Ride

**Author's Notes:** Sorry about the delay folks, but I finally managed to get Chapter Four down the way I liked. So without further ado, here ya go!

It's kind short, but I hope ya like it ^^

* * *

Kyle Ambrose awoke with a jolt as the semi truck went over rough terrain, tossing around all the passengers inside. He grunted as he slid around the truck's bed, putting his right arm out infront of him as he crashed into the side. He made a loud thud as he crashed and swore under his breath as he flipped onto his stomach and pushed himself onto all fours.

"Oh Kyle, are you alright?" He heard Melissa ask from somewhere behind him.

"Yeah..." Kyle grunted in response. "Just fucking dandy." Losing his balance, the First Lieutenant crashed to the floor again. "What the hell's going on?"

Logan, who had himself pressed up against one the hull's walls, spoke up. "Well, things were fine until a couple of minutes ago. You were napping, we were all chilling and things were alright until the truck sped up and started swerving." He paused as a gunshot sounded from outside. "And now it seems the driver is shooting. Wonderful."

_Never can just wake up to something normal during this whole fucking thing, can I?_ Kyle thought as he slid around a bit.

The truck's container rocked, shaking and rattling around everyone inside like a can of peas. As everyone inside fought hard to keep themselves from being tossed around, more gunfire sounded from outside. Whatever was going outside, it couldn't be good. A large jolt passed through the truck, as if they'd crashed through something and suddenly if felt like they moving downhill. Seconds later, the bumps and sliding stopped as they reentered flat terrain, but the speed remained. Kyle rolled over once more and pushed himself up again, this time managing to keep himself up.

"Fucking Christ," Steve said from somewhere to the side of him. "what the fuck is going on out there?"

"I think they're trying to climb onto the truck." Logan explained. "God, I hope the guns in here don't start going off."

"Yeah, that'd be pretty shitty." Kyle nodded, shuddering a bit at the thought of dying because his rifle accidentally discharged.

As Kyle forced the grim thoughts from his mind, the truck suddenly whipped around in a half circle, sending the young Lieutenant tumbling around awkwardly. He crashed into someone hard, sending them both slamming into the side of the truck's hull, dazed and confused. Seconds later, a loud beeping signaled the truck was beginning to back-up.

"Ugh..." He heard a female groan from underneath him. Alarmed, he scrambled up and off of the person he'd hit, startled to find the News Reporter.

"Oh shit, oh shit." Kyle gulped and helped her up. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah..." Melissa replied painfully. "I wish I'd hit you instead though. I don't like breaking falls."

"Heh..." The Lieutenant grinned sheepishly. "Sorry."

"No problemo, soldier. Don't worry abou-"

Before she could finish though, the truck hit something hard and finally came to a stop. Once again, both Kyle and Melissa were sent rolling. This time however, Kyle ended up on the bottom, breaking Melissa's fall. With a laugh, she glanced down at him.

"How about we call it even?" She asked with a smirk.

"Heh, sounds good to me." Kyle replied, returning the look.

Flashing the Lieutenant a smile, the News Reporter rolled off of him and sat up, rubbing her back a bit. Kyle sat up as well, rolling his neck to get the kinks out. As everyone recovered, more gunshots sounded from outside.

A few seconds later, thumps came from above the truck. Everyone glanced up, wide eyed as the thumps went from the cabin of the truck all the way across. Muffled voices came from outside and everyone in the hull exchanged glances.

"A-are they fucking leaving us?" The blond woman asked as she scrambled to her feet, eyes wide with fear.

"No, they wouldn't do that." Logan snapped. But Kyle could tell that even the Sergeant didn't completely believe his own words.

To be completely honest, Kyle wasn't entirely sure if Norma was leaving them or not. By the way things had been going for the Marine lately, he couldn't really say he'd be surprised if that was exactly what was happening. Still, Kyle forced the thoughts from his mind and snatched up his M4, quickly checking the magazine's capacity incase he needed to use it.

"Well give her five minutes. If something doesn't happen by then, we'll get that door open and see what's going on out there." The Lieutenant said.

"Eh... Hate to burst your bubble, Kyle." Logan grunted, unholstering his M9. "But judging by that last hit, I think we're lodged up against a building. _If_ Norma is leaving us, we'll be safe for a while. Unless those bastards outside suddenly develop super strength, or somehow become smart enough to open that door, they're not getting in. Unfortunately, we'll eventually die of dehydration, starvation or malnutrition. If she's got some kind of plan... Well, I hope it's a damn good one."

"You never really were much for optimism, were you Logan?"

"Nah, not really. Fuck that happy-go-lucky bullshit. My glass is always half empty; 'prepare for the worst' is the only good part of that expression." The Sergeant said, cracking a small grin.

"Hey, um, guys, if you two are done with your little chit-chatty bullshit," Steve cut in. "may I suggest we think of a plan if that old bitch is leaving us?"

"Well, if she is leaving us Steve, we could shoot you and I've got a couple of flares in my little knapsack here, so we could pull a Donner Part-"

Logan's sentence however was cut short as noises began coming from the back of truck. Both Marines swung around, bringing their weapons up and keeping the barrel pointed at the truck's door. Kyle glanced over at his comrade, giving him a grim smile.

"You just had to open your big mouth, huh?" Kyle asked mockingly.

"Oh bite me, it's not my fault I'm always right." Logan retorted smugly.

The duo tensed as a click signaled the unlocking of the truck's backdoor. Seconds later, it began to slide up and feet were revealed first, then legs, wrist, torso, faces. Luckily, none of them were all fucked up. The Marines let out heavy, relieving sighs and lowered their weapons.

One older woman - Norma - and three men; two younger ones, an African American man and a Caucasian man who were armed with pistols and an older one who was tightly gripping a stockless shotgun. The two Marines exchanged glances and chuckled softly.

"You guys need any help getting out of there?" The young Caucasian male asked, stepping forward and into the truck.

"Um..." Frank stepped out from somewhere behind Kyle and jerked his thumb back. "W-we've got a lady back here who doesn't look too hot. I-I think she's got an infection or something. I don't know if she can walk and she's kind of a big gal."

The African American man scoffed and shot a glance at the Caucasian man. "Yo man, you better go get a wheel barrel, Michael."

"Yeah... That's a good idea." The Caucasian man nodded. "U-um, wait here okay?" And with this, he darted out of the truck and disappeared.

"So... Where've we stopped at?" Logan asked, glancing at the trio who stood in the doorway.

"Cross Roads Mall." The African American man answered. "You guys soldiers or somethin'?"

"Marines." Logan snapped irritatedly. "We're Marines."

"Yeah, whatever. Same thing. That name's Andre. I hope you guys got some ammo for any weapons you guys got, I checked the sporting good's store. There ain't no damn guns." The African American man, Andre, explained.

"Well, it's not the best ammunition supply." Kyle answered before Logan had a chance to respond to the 'same thing' comment. Unlike most Marines, Kyle wasn't bothered by such small things. "But it's better than nothing."

Andre let out a scoff and nodded slowly at this.

"Yeah... Well, I dunno about you guys, but I'm kinda sick and tired of being stuck in this metal box, so if you'll excuse me." Steve said and walked out of the truck, the blond woman following him.

Logan let out a low grunt and turned away to collect the weapons and other supplies located in the truck, rolling his eyes as he spoke. "Dick."

"Hey, don't be such an ass." Kyle said, cocking an arrogant smile as he joined his fellow Marine in the gathering. "That man may prove be to very useful someday. Who knows, he may be the key to getting us out of this hell."

"Yeah, right." Logan mock laughed. "Get real, Kyle. Something like that'll _never_ happen."


	5. Chapter 5: Revelations and Reassurance

**Author's Notes:** Well folks, here's Chapter 5! :D

A special thanks goes out to A Flying Tomato and Prisoner617 for reviewing xD They're both good writers, far better than me.

And I'm glad I inspired you Tomato, rock on dude!

Anyways, more thanks go out to everyone who's helped me reach the 300 Hits mark.

Thank you all and I hope you all stick with me through the whole Trilogy! ^^

* * *

"Thank God, I couldn't stay in that fucking truck anymore." The blond woman who'd been in the truck remarked.

"Yeah, you're not the only one tuts." Logan replied with a laugh. "I think I'm gonna have bruises from being tossed around in there."

"Well, excuse me all to hell for saving your ungrateful asses." Norma retorted, shooting both a mocking look.

"Yeah you two, stop your bitching. We're alive, right? That's all that matters." Melissa chimed in.

"Now, now children..." A blond woman said, clearing her throat. "Anybody who's injured, let's get you into Metropolis right away. I'll come take a look at you." She directed.

Logan turned away, moving along with the rest of the injured crowd. Kyle began to follow, but the Sergeant turned and put a hand to his chest.

"I thought she said injured people go to Metropolis." Logan pointed out, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yeah, but-"

"Oh don't worry, Kyle. I don't need to hold your hand." Logan let out a laugh and rolled his eyes, pulling his M9 from it's holster and handing it to his buddy. "And besides, there only needs to be one Marine in there, dude. Especially if they're _this _badass." He grinned, waving his hand down his body as if it were a prize. With this, he turned away and chuckled softly as he followed the others.

"Cocky asshole." Kyle cracked a grin, rolling his eyes and shaking his head as he turned away.

"He always like that?" The Lieutenant turned as Melissa spoke to him.

Kyle shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, pretty much. He's always been like that, but he's not really as pompous as he likes to act."

"I see..." The News Reporter nodded slowly. "Why aren't you like that? Aren't soldiers supposed to be all gung-ho and 'hoorah' and all that good stuff?"

"First of all, the correct term is Marine. Army is soldiers, Marines are... well Marines." The Lieutenant shrugged his shoulders again as he spoke. "And secondly, not _all_ of us, just a good majority. I happen to fall into minority that isn't."

"Well thank you dearly for the correction." Melissa replied, giggling a bit. "But you didn't exactly answer my question."

"I believe I did."

"No. My question was 'why aren't you like that' and you clearly neglected to answer it."

Kyle turned and faced the female now, matching her innocent smile with a questioning look. After a few seconds of locked gazes, the Marine allowed himself to form a smile.

"I dunno. I've tried it before and it just doesn't suit me. Except when I'm drunk of course." He explained, cheeks flushing lightly.

"Drunk? I wouldn't peg you as the drinking type." She said, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't." Kyle paused. "Usually."

"Usually? What's usually?" She asked curiously.

"Usually is usually." He replied.

"No, no, no. No half-ass answers like that, _Mr._ Ambrose." She said, smirking. "What is usually?"

"Usually is not that often." Kyle grumbled, unamused by the teasing use of the title 'Mr.' "I've gone out a couple times with the guys, no big deal."

"Ah, I see. So you're just as straight edge as you seem, huh?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

The young News Reporter opened her mouth to continue the conversation when the same, spine shivering inhuman scream that seemed to plague everyones nightmares recently pierced the air like nails on a chalk board. Eyes wide with fear, senses on high alert, Kyle whipped around, snatching the M9 Logan had handed to him.

"It came from Metropilos." He said and darted forward in the direction of the furniture store.

Seconds later, the Lieutenant swung around a sharp corner and through the store's front doors, pistol raised and ready. He quickly scanned the faces inside of the store, but found no source of the scream.

"Heh... You're a little late to the party, buddy." Logan said with a weak grin. "The doctor took care of it."

"What?" Kyle breathed, lowering his handgun.

"The... the big lady." A young security guard whispered, pale and shaking madly with fear. "Sh-she... She... She got up..."

Confused, Kyle moved forward, keeping the M9 at the ready. With speedy caution, he rounded a corner and saw the obese woman who'd had a large chunk missing out of her arm earlier on the ground with a fire poker jammed through her left eye socket, the blond woman who'd herded the injured into Metropolis standing over her.

"What the fuck?" Kyle blinked, dropping his stance. "What happened?"

The blond woman turned and locked wordless gazes with him. They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity before she finally let out a shuddering sigh and stepped back, squeezing her eyes shut. Kyle moved forward as she regained herself.

"Damn..." He whispered, crouching down beside the dead woman and the pool of blood slowly spreading from her head. As he did, flashes of the man he'd kicked off his sniper tower flashed in his mind. Shoving the thoughts away, he glanced back at the blond doctor.

"What happened?" He repeated.

The doctor licked her lips before answering.

"She... came back to life."

* * *

Kyle stood on the edge of the mall's roof, staring down coldly at the growing crowd of people below. He couldn't believe it. Every single one of them, just as fucked up as the people who'd overrun Fort Pastor and St. Verbena. Shambling around, clothing covered in blood, limbs missing or severely injured. He guessed that if he took a few shots, they probably wouldn't go down unless they took a bullet to the head. God... What was going on?

"Heh..." Logan sat down, allowing his legs to dangle over the roof's edge. "Look at 'em Kyle. Fuck man, how'd things get like this? Things were all hunky-fucking-dory a month and a half ago."

"Yeah." Kyle sighed, scratching the back of his head and took a seat next to his friend.

There was a moment of silence between the two. Kyle's mouth was dry and he felt extremely uncomfortable and awkward sitting here just watching the people below... shamble.

"You stopped accepting phone calls." Logan said suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Huh?" Kyle turned toward the Sergeant.

"After Angie died. You started screening calls."

"..." Kyle frowned and turned away again. "No I didn't."

"Bullshit!" Logan snarled, grabbing Kyle's shirt. "Bull-fucking-shit Kyle. I know you weren't so fucking busy you couldn't accept a couple of goddamn phone calls. That's why Jennifer left you, dammit. You secluded yourself, pushed everyone away."

"You don't even understand!" Kyle shot back, jerking away.

"Oh, come off it, Kyle! You're not the only one who lost somebody dammit!" Logan's eyes watered a bit now as Kyle turned to face him. "Did you forget how close we were...? Jesus, Kyle... I loved her. And not like a sister, man. I was in love with her."

The two Marines held their gazes, eyes locked. Kyle's breathing was strangely calm and even, his face unreadable. Logan was paler than before and the sweating had gotten worse, his eyes dulling.

"You should've... just picked up the phone a couple times." Logan whispered, closing his eyes.

Without thinking, Kyle's arms shot out and wrapped around Logan's torso, pulling their bodies together with ease. Kyle embraced his friend firmly, squeezing his eyes shut as tears began to form. He felt foolish now, having said what he'd said and having made the decisions he'd made. He'd always thought that nobody understood the pain he was going through.

Now he knew how wrong he'd been.

After a few long moments, the embrace ended and the two released each other. Logan laid down on his back, staring up at the bright blue sky with a sigh. His eyes eventually fell shut and his breathing started to become raspier.

"I... think she was right... it's the bites." Logan panted.

Kyle could only stare as his friend lay there.

"Kyle, come here..."

Without hesitation, the First Lieutenant moved over and crouched next to his dying comrade. Logan lifted his head weakly and slid his dog tags off, taking them and placing them in Kyle's hands.

"If anybody can make if through this thing, it's... you Kyle. Make sure... these make it to a memorial." He said, smiling weakly. "I want people... to remember how badass I was."

Kyle managed an equally weak laugh and nodded. "Yeah, I'll make sure of it."

"Good." Logan let out a deep exhale. "I'll... tell Angie you said hi and you love her."

"Thanks..."

"No problem... man. What're friends for?" Logan coughed before letting out a low groan. "Now... hurry up and get away... from me. I don't think... I've got much time left."

Kyle stood up again and slowly drew his M9 handgun. With unease, he gripped the weapon with both hands and took aim at Logan's head. Swallowing back bile, the Lieutenant steadied his hands and waited. Logan manged one final smile before allowing his head to tilt back, chest going down one last time as his breathing stopped.

In the agony filled, hellish seconds that followed, all the memories that Kyle had of and with Logan flew through his mind at a million miles an hour, everything they'd ever done or seen or said playing in his head. Finally, Logan's eyes flickered opened.

Only it wasn't Logan inside of those eyes.

Logan was gone.

Kyle turned away, his eyes squeezed shut as the creature that had once been his best friend began to sit up. Reluctantly, Kyle eased the trigger of his pistol back. There was a loud pop and then the top of his handgun slid backwards, ejecting the spent bullet casing from the gun. In that time, less than a second, a 9mm bullet shot from the weapon and smashed into the creature's skull.

There was a quiet thud as the creature fell back down.

The handgun fell from Kyle's grip and clattered to the ground, sliding away a couple of inches as the First Lieutenant turned away. Dropping to his knees, he covered his head with his hands, doubling over. He curled up into a ball as best he could, a soft sob escaping his lips as he began to mourn the loss of yet another person lost.

For the next four hours, Kyle Ambrose wept.


	6. Chapter 6: Time Goes On

**Author's Note:** Well, since nobody else did anything, I decided to throw together a few short little stories myself =/ however, if you still wanna submit a story, go ahead and send me an e-mail. It's a hotmail account, DarkAngel347.

Send it and as long as it's literate, I'll more than likely put it up here!

* * *

**Story Title:** The Competition

**Author:** DarkAngel347

**Genre:** Comedy

**Summary**: Andy and Kyle decide to have a friendly contest to see who the better sniper is.

Paintball guns.

Deep in the sporting goods there had been a good amount of paintball guns along with ammunition. There were a rainbow of colors too; red, green, blue, orange, pink, purple. The colors were nearly endless. When Michael had stumbled upon this assortment of nowhere near lethal weaponry, everyone had had the same idea.

All out battle royal!

Well... not quite.

The group split itself into two teams and to keep things fair; Kyle and Ken were placed on opposite teams and made the team leaders. In the end it had broken down to Tucker, Steve, Terry on Kyle's team while Michael, Melissa, Ana and were on Ken's team. Everyone else had decided to sit it out or just hadn't been around when the game was brought up like Andre and Luda.

They're decided that the top floor of the mall and the roof was their playground. There had been three games. During the first round, surprisingly enough, Kyle was the first to be shot. He'd stepped out of his hiding place to take a shot at Ana who'd been creeping around alone in the middle of the mall, an obvious trap, when a hail of orange paintballs hit him. Kenneth was the culprit. In the end of the first round, it had come down to Terry and Steve against only Ken. Somehow, the police sergeant demolished them.

During the second round Kyle kicked it into overkill mode; he'd begun to hunt down everyone on the opposite team on a one man mission to eliminate them all. He'd managed to take out Melissa and Michael, but Ken once again stopped his assault. Well, not before Kyle had managed to whirl around and fire off his own rounds. With three-on-one, Kyle's team made short work of Ana.

It then all came down to round three. Kyle and Ken had become rivals in this game and picked off each other's team members single-handedly. Between the two of them, it had taken a total of thirty minutes to end the round.

Kyle lost.

The next day, Kenneth had been going over the competition and his victory, explaining it to Andy the gun store own who was across the lot. Kyle was still stewing, drinking down a glass of hot chocolate he'd gotten from _Hollow Grounds_ when Ken had turned to him.

"Hey Kyle." He said.

Kyle glanced up at the police sergeant, signaling for him to continue.

"Andy wants to know if you wanna do a shooting contest."

The idea was odd. Andy had a seemingly infinite amount of ammunition supply in his store, but the group here in the mall had a very limited supply. Beside, how could they tell who was shooting what?

For some unknown reason, Andy had a few of his own paintball guns in his store. Apparently he'd originally tried selling them as treats for teenagers and other paintball lovers, but since the mall had them too, it didn't work out in the end and he'd never made the time to get rid of them. Now, however, they could be put to good use.

The competition was set. Each shooter suited up a paintball gun complete with scope and tweaked it out the way they wanted. Early the next morning, they prepared for the competition to begin. Kyle would be using bright, neon green paintballs while Andy was using bright orange.

Kyle and Andy both loaded their weapons with fifty paintballs and had a large tub of their paintball color next to them, ready for when they needed to reload. The rules had been decided.

It was a five minute window; in those five minutes, both snipers would shoot as many Infected as they could. The head was worth ten points while the body was five. Whoever had the most points in the end was the winner.

Kyle grinned and crouched down near the edge of the roof. Across the way at the gun store, Andy did the same. Ken stood behind the Lieutenant, a large water balloon in his hand. When the balloon hit the ground, the competition was on.

"You can do it, Kyle!" Melissa cheered from behind him.

"We've all seen Andy's skills." Steve said. "I don't think Kyle has a chance in Hell." He snorted.

Melissa responded by elbowing his softly in the ribs. "And you've never seen Kyle's skills. He saved my life with that rifle he had."

Steve only grunted, mumbling to himself.

"Andy's ready." Ken said, glancing down at Kyle. "What about you?"

"Yeah, let's do this." Kyle answered with a nod.

A couple of seconds later, Kenneth hurled the balloon. Kyle tensed a bit as the balloon flew through the air; hand around the small stopwatch he'd be using. As soon as the balloon exploded, Kyle's thumb came down and clicked the button. Time started counting down.

As soon as he pushed down, the watch left his grip and he brought both hands to the gun. He took aim the nearest Infected, a small woman, and eased the trigger back. About two seconds later, a flower of green exploded onto the woman's shoulder. Beside her, two counter colored flowers of orange burst to life on two other Infected.

"Shit," Kyle continued his assault, doing his best to hit what he could in the head. "he's good."

_Splat, splat, splat, splat._ Down below, orange and green flowers exploded all over. The Infected crowds below weren't pleased with the small paintballs hitting them and they groaned in agitation, some turned and swatted at the closest Infected to them.

Kyle squeezed the trigger back and seconds later, the burst of green splattered all over an Infected man's face. The man stumbled back, grunting in surprise. When Kyle turned to target another, nothing happened.

"Damn!" Kyle left his sniping position so that he could reload. About four seconds later, Andy began to reload as well.

As soon as the weapon was ready, Kyle got back into position and began squeezing out paintballs again.

This continued for the next five minutes. The stopwatch Kyle had set began to beep as he was reloading for the fourth time. Grunting, he glanced back at Ken. The police sergeant nodded and Ana went to work counting off points. Kyle glanced down at the Infected below, noting that a good chunk of them were covered in paint. He laughed, trying to find out if he had more points or Andy. Fifteen minutes later, Ana had finished counting.

"Well... Honestly, it's hard to tell who had more points." She explained.

Kyle frowned, glancing up at her. "What do you mean?"

Ana shrugged. "I mean I have to say it's a tie."

"Damn." Kenneth said, genuinely surprised. "Didn't see that coming."

Kyle stood up. "W-wait! A tie! We can't have a tie!" He exclaimed. "We have to have a rematch!"

Everyone looked at each other. Kenneth laughed and shrugged, scribbling something down on his whiteboard. He held it up and Andy glanced over at it from across the way with his binoculars. He then wrote something down on his own whiteboard and held it up for Ken.

"Rematch is on." Kenneth declared. "He's got some purple paintballs he can use. We'll go get some red ones."

Kyle grinned in delight and began to empty out the green paintballs he'd been reloading into his paintball gun. Ten minutes later, Michael and Terry came back jugs full of red paintballs. Kyle didn't wait for them to start loading them in the tub, he snatched one of the jugs and began to shovel them into his gun. The stopwatches were reset, Kenneth filled up another waterballoon and both snipers took their positions again.

Kyle wait impatiently for things to start. This time he was determined to win. As soon as the second water balloon shattered, both unleashed a hail of fire on the crowd. After a good five minutes and a ton of paintballs, the shooting stopped the counting began. This time Michael was the one to count. After a few minutes, he pinched his lips.

"Umm..."

"Umm what?" Kyle asked.

"Well... It's close Kyle. Too close..." Michael said hesitantly.

"What! You've gotta be kidding me! Dammit!"

"Sorry."

"Another rematch!"

And another rematch was declared. Unfortunately, the results were the same this time. And the next time. And the next time. And the next time. And the next time. And the next time...

The sun was beginning to sit as Kyle and Andy ended their eighteenth rematch. After hearing the results, which were the same as every other time, Kyle declared another rematch.

"Give it up, Kyle!" Michael, one of the only four spectators left up on the roof, said.

"Never! I refuse to allow this end in a draw!"

"Sorry bucko, but it looks like it has." Tucker chimed in.

"I refuse to accept this!"

"Looks like you don't have much of a choice." Kenneth said, chuckling. "Andy's going to sleep early tonight."

"What! No! No, no, no! Dammit!" Kyle stamped his feet in a rather child-like manner, causing everyone else to laugh.

Sulking, Kyle slumped to the edge of the build and sat down. Meanwhile, Kenneth, Tucker and Michael made their way to the stairs. Melissa, however, walked over to Kyle and took a seat next to him. After a few seconds of silence, she turned to him and smirked.

"You're a pretty competitive guy." She said.

Kyle shrugged. "Yeah, I can be."

"That from the Marines?"

"Nah. I've always been that way."

They both laughed.

"It actually got me into a couple fights at boot camp though." Kyle admitted. "Card games at break got alot of people mad at me." The Marine grinned, turning toward Melissa. "I'm a total card shark."

The News Reporter giggled. "I'm not too bad at Poker myself." She declared. "C.J. and Bart seem to be good too since that's pretty much all they do cooped up in that cell. Maybe we'll all have to sit down and play sometime."

Kyle nodded in agreement as he stood up, helping the Latino Reporter up as well. As she was pulled to her feet, she smiled brightly. As they walked toward the stairs, she turned to him.

"You sure to be in better spirits." Melissa pointed out.

Kyle nodded, still grinning. "Yep."

"Why's that?"

"I've got something to look forward to tonight. I'm sure I saw an unopened pack of playing cards in one of the stores while we were looking around. I like my cards to be nice and fresh when I play."

Melissa stopped dead in her tracks, her smile fading as the First Lieutenant continued forward, disappearing down the stairs. She stood there for a couple of seconds, wondering if Terry and Nicole knew any good hiding places in the mall.

What had she gotten herself into?

* * *

**Story Title:** Ladies Night

**Author:** DarkAngel347

**Genre:** Comedy/Hinted Romance(s)

**Summary**: The ladies take over Hollow Grounds and half of the second floor, making it a 'girl's only' territory.

Oddly enough, it had been Norma's idea. It was her idea to chase all the guys out of _Hollow Grounds_ and block off a good portion of the Mall's second floor for what would be a ladies night in. Nicole had been a bit unsure, unwilling to leave her new found boyfriend Terry. After some convincing however, she agreed. Unfortunately, Luda absolutely refused to leave Andre's side. Oh well, her loss. Now, the ladies roamed free on the second floor of the Cross Roads Mall. This was now Norma, Ana, Melissa, Monica, Nicole's territory. At least for the night.

There was plenty of giggling and chattering between the females as Ana finished pouring a large mug of hot chocolate for herself. Everyone else had a mug and were dressed in what they consider to be their P.J's.

Nicole was dressed in a long sleeved, satin, baby blue colored Capri pajamas outfit that was decorated with stars while her hair was tied back into two tiny pigtails.

Ana was dressed in similar attire to when she'd first arrived at the mall; cotton pants there were turquoise in color and a wife beater tank top. As usual, her hair was tied back into a low-set ponytail.

Monica was dressed in something a bit more sultry than the rest; a thin, spaghetti strapped top and a pair of black boy shorts with red lacing while her hair, was usual, was wild and messy.

Melissa was dressed in a black colored wife beater, courtesy of an unwilling Kyle, and a pair of violet, satin boxers which traveled down just below above her knee. Her hair, which she had had shortened a bit earlier in the day was nice and fluffy thanks to a shower and tied back like Ana's.

Finally, there was Norma. Norma had a thick, fluffy white robe draped over a pale pink, traditional style nightgown which did strangely well to suit her aging body.

All in all, the males who had been chased away were jealous that they couldn't join in the girl's festivities - mainly because there'd be no eye candy tonight. It was no secret many of the males gave their female companions admiring glances more than once a day, even if they failed to admit it, like Kenneth, Michael and Kyle. Tucker and Steve made no attempts to hide their lustful thoughts and gazes. Tucker would constantly whistle at the younger girls, though even then, it was usually a joke and Steve was... well, Steve; it was no secret that he and Monica were basically fuck buddies.

Terry and Andre however were probably the only two who didn't; Terry was too busy with Nicole to have a wandering eye and Andre was never around, and even when he was, he never spared anyone more time than absolutely needed. Everyone thought it was rather cute that Andre was so committed to his wife and her pregnancy.

"Mmm, this is nice." Ana said after taking a sip of her hot chocolate. "No guys to worry about."

"I dunno..." Nicole said, her knees hugged against her chest.

"Oh don't worry, Nicole." Melissa said, patting the younger girls shoulder. "Terry'll be just fine without you for one night. Besides, you two need the time apart. You two've been spending so much time together, you'll end up suffocating each other. One of the keys to a good relationship is knowing when to give each other space and how much to give."

Nicole nodded, a smile appearing on her face. "Thanks."

"Speaking of Terry," Ana said, propping her head up with her hand and knee. "you two seem pretty close."

Nicole's cheeks tinted a light shade of pink as she nodded.

"Have you put out?" Monica asked suddenly, leaning forward.

In a second, the pink Nicole's face stained a dark scarlet color. She shook her head furiously as she buried her face in her knees. Everyone else laughed.

"Do you still actually have your V-card, Nicole?" Monica inquired.

"Well... yeah." The blush on Nicole's face stayed as gave a muffled answer.

"That's cute." Monica giggled before looking around at everyone else. "What about you girls? Anybody else still have their virginity?"

Norma was the first to answer. "Sweetie, I've had five husbands. What do you think?"

Everyone laughed before turning the conversation to Ana.

"Nope." Ana said. "My third boyfriend. I was convinced he was the one and he just might've been if he hadn't gotten Cancer."

"Awww, I'm sorry hun." Norma said with a frown.

"It's alright." Ana said with a hint of sadness in her voice. "When I met Luis, everything got better."

There was a small fit of laughter as Ana was forced to explain an abridged version of what went down with her third boyfriend.

"Mm, that sounds nice. He sounds like he was a good guy in more than one way." Monica said snickering.

"Hard to find these days." Melissa pointed out.

"That's for damn sure." Norma agreed.

Everyone then turned their attention to Melissa, skipping over Monica. It was plainly clear that the curly haired blond was no angel; she and Steve had a rather… lustful relationship. No real shame in that though, was there? Maybe, maybe not.

"And how about you, Melissa?" Monica asked, leaning closer to the New Reporter.

Melissa's face suddenly turn a light shade of red. She curled up a bit, pulling her knees to her chest in similar manner to Nicole. She giggled before shaking her head. "No, I'm not."

There was a small gasp, then a giggling fit. Before she knew it, Melissa was bombarded with multiple questions.

"Who was it?"

"How long did it last?"

"Was he good?"

"Was he a sweet guy like mine?"

"How did you feel afterwards?"

"What age did you do it at?"

Melissa shrugged her shoulders, her smile and blush fading. Everyone suddenly calmed down and pulled back, a bit put off by Melissa's sudden change of attitude. Sighing, she spoke. "It was a mistake. That's all."

"Hm… I see darling." Norma said with a slight nod. "We won't push it anymore."

The group nodded in compliance and Melissa slowly formed another smile. "Thanks."

"No problem darling." Norma smiled. "Anyways, let's move onto the next topic of discussion. The guys."

The group brightened up at this, everyone grinning.

"Mmm, I don't know about you guys, but Kyle's a fine little soldier boy." Monica said, not bothering to hide the lust behind her voice. "But he's so straight-edge and old school. I tried and didn't get anywhere. It was kind of a bummer."

"M'hm. Kyle's a high-class kinda guy. He's sweet, and kind, and nice, and chivalrous, and just all around great." Melissa said dreamily.

"Oh my, sounds like someone has a crush." Ana said with a large grin.

Melissa squeaked, her face reddening again. She shook her head quickly in response. "No, it's not like that." She protested.

"Oh, don't kid us Mel." Monica rolled her eyes. "We all know how close you two are."

"Yeah, and have you seen the way he looks at you? I think he might have a thing for you too." Nicole said with a smile.

Melissa's red face only continued to darken as everyone spoke. She shook her head once more. "No, I don't like Kyle like that. We're just friends."

"For now." Norma said suddenly. "You like him, it's plain to see and we're all pretty sure he likes you too."

"Exactly." Ana chimed in ."You've gotta go and get closer to him. You're the closest person to him and vice versa. Not to mention you two make a good couple."

Melissa looked around at all the other girls. She pinched her lips together, trying to come up with some type of material she could use in a protest. After several long seconds, she nodded bashfully. "Yeah, I guess you're right…"

"Of course we're right!" Ana grinned.

"Hm. Speaking of couples…" Melissa shot back, her own grin forming. "What about you and Michael?"

Ana's grin instantly faded, a light blush crossing her cheeks. "What about me and Michael?" She asked.

"Oh ho, now it's time for you to be all shy." Monica said, laughing.

"I'm not shy!" Ana shouted. "I'm just… unsure."

"Unsure?" Norma blinked. "Ana, you two have been spending a lot of time together, especially lately. Plus, the way he talks when he's around you and stuff. Have you noticed? I think he's got a bit of a thing for you hun."

Ana sighed softly, shaking her head. "I'm not scared that he doesn't like me, I'm sure he does. I mean… well, you know. We're close and stuff, it's just…" She hesitated before going on. "I've already lost someone I care about to this whole thing. I don't wanna lose another…"

Everyone paused. Every girl - Hell, everyone in the whole mall could relate to Ana in that department. There was an awkward silence as everyone became lost in their own thoughts. Finally though, Melissa opened up.

"Ana, I think we can all relate to you there. Everyone we've known or cared about is dead, or... worse." The Hispanic News Reporter swallowed. "But... we can't let this stop us. We all have to keep moving forward and live our lives. New people to meet, new romances to be involved in, new families to be apart of. That's what this is all about, right? We're all like... one big, strange family. In a werid way..."

All eyes were on Melissa now. Again, there was a brief silence before everyone grinned and began to cheer.

"Damn, Melissa. You should be a motivational speaker." Norma said.

"Yeah Melissa, that was great!" Nicole threw in her two cents.

"Definitely. Thank Melissa, that really helped." Ana smiled.

Melissa's cheeks were once again red from embarrassment. "Oh, don't compliment me like that. My head's big enough already."

The feeling of happiness had returned.

The chattering and conversations went on for another three hours. It was 12:00 am before the girls decided it was time for sleep. They all curled on the floor and began to fall asleep rather quickly. Melissa smiled to herself as she lay under a baby blue comforter. In all honesty, she had been quite unsure that she was thinking right before her little speech. She felt close to everyone in the mall - Ana, Nicole, Monica, Norma, Michael, Kenneth, Kyle, Tucker, Glen, even Steve. She had been unsure that they felt the same, but now she knew.

She was glad she had been wrong.


	7. Chapter 7: Blackout

**Author's Note:** I'm really sorry this one took so long! Dx I've been away for a good portion of time, so I apologize. Anyhoo, one of my favorite scenes from the movie redone 83 Hope you like it.

Also, kudos to whoever gets my two From Dusk Till Dawn references! :D They're pretty easy to spot and they're basically one right after another. I'll give you a hint though: it's in the second half of the story after the zombie attack.

* * *

One month.

Had it really only been that long?

For one month, give or take, twenty-eight year old United States Marine Corps First Lieutenant Kyle Ambrose had been trapped inside of the Cross Roads Mall alongside a small group of survivors. Not that he minded being stuck there with them, really. In all honesty, he'd become very close to these people. Despite the fact he had only known these people for a little over, or under, a month, he felt closer to them than he had to anyone else in a very long time.

Logan's death had shaken the young Lieutenant though. Luckily though, it had also allowed him to open up. For the whole month and a half after his younger sister Angie's death, Kyle had secluded himself. He'd become such a reclusive hermit, ignoring any attempts to get to him. He put up walls and pushed everyone else away, having convinced himself nobody was going through nearly as much as pain as he was. Logan had changed that though. Even in death, Logan had managed to dearly help his best friend.

Things were alright now.

Well, as alright as things could be during an apocalypse.

Kyle sat at the large glass dinner table, Melissa to his right and Tucker to his left. Out of all the people in the group, Kyle felt he'd become closest to these two. Melissa had helped him, comforted him through the pain of losing his best friend. She'd been the one who'd come up onto the roof and found him crying. The one who'd held him for an hour while he cried. She didn't expect him to be some, big, bad ass emotionless Marine. She knew he had emotions; knew he felt pain and happiness and sadness. She expected him to be human and nothing more.

He had also learned a few things about in her as well. There was the fact she was two years younger than him, making her twenty-five. Her great grandparents had come to the United States from Mexico and both she and her parents had been born and raised in the country, making her a full US citizen. She had been a news reporter for seven months prior to the outbreak and was good at her job which she had loved with a passion. She had personally volunteered to go out to Fort Pastor in replacement for another report who had called in sick that day. Due to her lack of knowledge with firearms, Kyle had been personally teaching her how to hold and fire weapons correctly.

Tucker on the other hand was somewhere between Father, or rather Uncle, and new best friend. Tucker was an older, wiser man than Kyle was. He'd offered advice to the young Marine more than once during this whole time and too had helped comfort him. It turned out Tucker hadn't been as wise as he always was. In his younger years, he'd done his share of crimes and spent time in jail when he wasn't busy on the farm he'd grown up on. Luckily though, he'd cleaned himself off and managed to get a job as a long haul truck driver. Not too shabby, Kyle always thought. When the outbreak had started, Tucker had apparently been on a run a long way away from home and had gone to the police station along with about one hundred other people. In the end, he'd been forced to abandon the station which is where he'd gotten the Mossberg 500 Cruiser. He'd manage to contact Norma on a police radio and she'd picked him up shortly before Glen had contacted them from the church.

Unlike the others, Kyle had been paying more attention to his food than the conversation at hand. Suddenly though, Monica's voice caught his attention.

"So... Kyle."

The Lieutenant lowered a fork filled with food as he glanced at the blond. "Hm?"

"Our own little soldier boy." She said, smiling. "How exactly did you get to becoming a big bad soldier?"

Kyle felt his cheeks flushing a light pink color as he laughed lightly. He set the fork down and shrugged his shoulders innocently. "Well... I, um." He cleared his throat before trying to speak again.

"Well, there's really nothing to it. I wanted to be a cop originally, but then I decided I wanted to do just a little bit better so I joined the military." Kyle said with another shrug. "Plain and simple."

"That's a boring story!" Monica pouted.

"Cops are way better." Kenneth said suddenly. "I don't know how much training you got in the Marines, but I know I could wipe the floor with your scrawny ass."

Kyle cracked a smile at Ken's remarks. "You really think so, Sergeant?"

"Damn right." Ken nodded. "You're not the only one who spent some time in the Marines, and that combined with my cop training makes me twice as good as you." He said, half mockingly, half seriously. "These tattoos aren't just for show." He said, motioning toward the two tattoos he had on his arms.

"Oh shit." Kyle laughed. "What ranking were you?"

"Master Sergeant."

"Not bad, not bad. You know you would've been saluting me though, right now."

"Like Hell I would've." Ken snorted. "I could've climbed my way higher if I hadn't gotten injured. Family asked me to come home, so I did. Even if I hadn't gotten any higher, I wouldn't salute you. Officers always have their heads up their asses."

Kyle laughed, nodding his head, grinning widely. "Yeah, I know how that is."

"So we've got two big bad ass Marines." Michael pitched in, chuckling. "Aren't we just a lucky bunch?"

"Damn right, we all are." Ken said.

"Hoorah! Semper Fi!" Kyle shouted, surprising everyone at the table with the sudden outburst.

A split second later, everyone burst into laughter. After a minute or so, the laughter died down and Ana spoke up.

"Since we're somewhat on the topics of occupations, what's everybody's worst job?" She asked.

"Oh, starting out my job as a cop." Ken answered almost immediately. "You'd think being a new recruit in the Marines is worse, but when you get taken out of the high rank and get knocked down to a new recruit again, it really pisses you off. I gained respect pretty quickly after I put some young little shit in his place, though."

"Well, I wouldn't pick on anybody your size Kenneth." Terry said, grinning sheepishly. "You're huge and could probably someone like me in half without even breaking a sweat."

Ken smirked. "Keep that in mind next time you're thinking about volunteering to make the coffee."

Another short burst of laughter later, it was Melissa's turn to speak.

"Well, before I got into the news business, I worked as a waitress at a small diner in my hometown. It was terrible because I had to wear this little skirt and the ass grabbing got really old, really fast. I ended up getting fired when I socked an older guy in the nose. I'm glad he didn't press charges either because I broke his nose."

"You broke some guys nose?" Tucker asked, as wide-eyed as everyone else. "Damn. I always thought you were a sweet little girl. Boy was I wrong."

"Oh Tucker, Hunny, I am a sweetheart most of the time. It's just when someone has the nerve to grab my ass without permission that I get violent."

"Sure it wasn't just 'that time of the month' Melissa?" Kyle asked, taking a quick sip of Coke before the News Reporter slugged him hard in the right arm. Once again, everyone at the table howled with laughter.

"Well, uh, I don't know what the worst job was, but I know what job I was the worst at." Michael spoke up after the laughter died down again. "Being a husband."

"That's not a job." Monica said, confused.

"It sure is." Tucker said, slowly nodding his head at the curly haired blond girl.

"You guys just haven't found the right girl." Monica replied, her lips slowly rising to form a smile.

"Yeah, I tried it three times and I got pink slips every time." Michael said, chuckling awkwardly.

"What were you best at?" Ana asked, propping her head up with her hand as she leaned on the table.

Kyle grabbed a hold of his cup and took a sip of Coke as Michael paused, thinking carefully about his answer. Finally, Michael glanced around at everyone and spoke up.

"Being a Dad." He said with a small nod. "I think I was best at that."

This time there was no laughter. Like a vacuum cleaner, that comment suddenly sucked all the cheerfulness and fun out of everyone, instead replacing it with awkwardness and unease. Kyle stared into his glass, biting his lower lip as he thought of Angie, Logan, his Mother and Step-Father again... his biological Father as well. He noticed Tucker give him an 'are you okay?' look. Melissa reached over and lightly grasped his shoulder. Kyle opened his mouth to say something-

-when suddenly all the electronics went out, leaving the mall eerily silent and pitch black for about two seconds.

Someone screamed.

On instinct, Kyle snatched his M9 out of the holster on his right thigh and a small flashlight from a pouch attached to his belt and clicked the button on as Ken did the same with the flashlight mounted on his Remington 870.

"Everybody just calm down." Ken grunted, sweeping the area with his shotgun.

"Are they inside?" Norma asked, her voice thick with fear and dread.

"No, I don't think so." Kyle responded quickly.

More lights began to come on as everyone moved about, Kyle taking note of Michael, Terry, Ken and Ana as the ones who picked their flashlights up first.

"Terry, this place have generators?" Michael asked.

"Um, yeah, but I dunno where they are. We'll have to go get Bart and C.J." Terry said with the smallest hint of fear in his voice.

"Great." Michael huffed. "Fine, I'll take them and go down to the generators and see if we can fix this. Terry, stay up here with the others." With this, the jack-of-all-trades began to walk in the direction of the security area where Bart and C.J., the rouge security guards, were being held.

"Hold on," Kyle said, snatching up his M4 before following after Michael. "I'll come to. I don't trust those guys."

"Heh, thanks Kyle."

Less than a minute later, Michael and Kyle barged into the security office. Bart was lying on the bed off to the left, his hat over his face and snoozing. C.J. on the other hand was busy reading some outdated magazine by the light of a small flickering flame coming from a silver Zippo lighter. The latter of the two looked up as the duo entered the room.

"So, you gonna tell us what's up with the lights?" He asked, looking back down at his magazine.

"That's why we've come to get you." Michael said, moving to the door.

C.J. grunted as he stood, chucking the magazine at Bart. Bart sat up groggily, muttering something to himself before shooting a glare at everyone. "What the hell?"

"Get your ass up, Bart." C.J. said, snatching his hat up off of the floor. "We're going somewhere."

* * *

"That's it. It's in employee parking, level three. They keep 'em in a pen near the parking shuttles." C.J. stood near the bottom of the stairs just off to Michael's left. Bart was up near the top the stairs, beside Kyle.

"Have fun." C.J. said and turned to walk up back up the stairs. Bart glanced at Kyle and went to move past him.

There was a small click as Kyle turned the safety on his M4 off.

"Did you really think we were just gonna leave you up there?" Michael asked.

C.J. and Bart glanced at each other then both glared at the Marine. Kyle returned the gesture, a small smirk on his face.

"You two're coming with us."

C.J. scoffed. "No, we're not."

"You've got two options; come with us, or back in the cell." Kyle said, irritation in his voice. After a long minute, C.J. turned back toward Michael, his arms crossing over his broad chest.

"I ain't going anywhere without a gun." He declared.

Kyle half-thought about giving him his M9.

"You're not getting a gun." Michael snapped.

"Trust." C.J. said simply, as if the word were the answer to the secret of the universe. "Primary ingredient in any relationship."

Michael and Kyle exchanged quick glances. Michael shrugged and turned toward a rectangular metal box that was attached to the wall. Using the end of Tucker's shotgun, he smashed the glass and pulled a large fire axe from it. Smirking, he tossed it to C.J. who glared hard.

"Have at 'em, cowboy." Michael said, turning toward the doors to the garage.

"Asshole." C.J. muttered.

Michael turned toward him, shining his flashlight into his eyes, a look of apathy on his face. C.J. grunted and turned back toward Bart. "Get the chains."

Both Bart and Kyle walked down the stairs. They were near the bottom when someone pumped a shotgun, sliding a shell into the chamber. Kyle turned around and saw Ken standing there, Remington 870 held at an angle. He looked pleased. "We ready to roll?" He asked.

Michael blinked, surprised. "You're coming with us?"

"Nah." Ken's smile widened and he began to walk down the stairs. "You're comin' with me."

Kyle let out a chuckle. Kenneth reminded him of his late friend a lot.

"I've done this before." He added, nonchalantly.

_Done this before? _Kyle thought. _I wonder what 'done this before' means._ He made a note to ask him about it sometime.

With caution, the small under armed team began to make their way down toward the third level of employee parking. Thanks to the power outage, the lights were out as they were upstairs. It wouldn't have been so bad if there was at least some type of lights down in this garage. Alas, the flashlights (and a few scattered emergency lights) were the only source of the light they had and the only noises that could be heard were from the sounds of their footsteps.

The trip to through level one was slow and uneventful, though, nobody was complaining. Slow and uneventful meant that, so far, there were no Infected running around and nobody had been bitten. This was good.

On level two, however, things began to get a bit more interesting. The group made their way deeper and deeper into level two. As they did, Kyle couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Kyle had always had a strange sixth sense; it came from an abusive, young childhood and always trying to keep his beloved Mother safe from his rarely sobered Father. After eight years in the military, those senses had only strengthened and he'd learned that when those senses spoke up, he really should listen. As he began to raise his awareness, Kyle thought he saw something more out of the corner of his eye.

"What the fuck was that?" Apparently Bart had seen it too. Well, at least Kyle knew he wasn't going crazy. "I just saw something!"

C.J. growled at his friend. "You didn't see shit. Shut the fuck up, Bart." He snapped.

Kyle was about to open his mouth and agree with the blond security guard when a noise from somewhere off to the right attracted everyone's attention. Kyle whipped around, raising his carbine. It was the, oh so familiar noise of footsteps. Something seemed off about them though...

"Oh shit." There was a deep nervousness in Bart's tone that made Kyle almost feel the need to turn around and grab him in case he tried to bolt on them. "Here it comes."

A shape began to move out from behind the pillar and Kyle almost wrapped his finger around the trigger of his weapon. The only thing that stopped him was the fact that the shape was too small to be human. As the mysterious stalker walked out from behind the concrete pillar, it gave them a confused stare. Kyle blinked, a bit taken back.

It was a black and white dog.

"Jesus Christ!" Bart snarled, angry and relieved at the same time.

Michael chuckled softly and crouched down to the dog's level. "It's a fuckin' dog." He whistled and clapped his hands, making a 'come here' motion. "Here boy."

The dog complied and quickly rushed over to Michael, whimpering softly. The former just-about-everything smile and pet the dog, obviously relieved. "Well, at least we know nothing's down here or they would've eaten it."

"See?" Bart gave C.J. an 'I told ya so' look. "I told you I saw something." C.J. merely grunted in response.

With the dog's appearance, everyone seemed to loosen up a bit. As Michael claimed, it was very apparent no Infected were roaming here in the or else dog wouldn't be here. With this knowledge, there was apparently an unofficial break initiated; Michael was seeing to the dog, C.J. and Ken were still pretty anxious and finally, Bart was busy examining an older model racing car, a look of delight on his face.

Although it seemed safe, Kyle wasn't quite sure. He wasn't as tense as before, but he was still alert. Battle had taught him that things usually don't stay calm for that long. Only serving to raise his unease, the dog began to bark as if it was trying to warn them.

Michael must have sensed it too. "What's wrong, boy?" He asked, as if he could really understand the four legged pooch.

Bart snorted, rolling his eyes and turned away from the car and looked at both Michael and the dog. "There's nothing wrong. That dog's just fucked up."

Kyle turned toward bar to say something snappy, but instead dropped his jaws as a figure moved toward Bart from behind. The Lieutenant opened his mouth to shout a warning just a legless person dropped down onto Bart's back from a water pipe it had been climbing on.

Too late.

There was a loud boom as Michael turned around, firing the Mossberg without even knowing what or where to shoot. His stray shot shattered the pipe, spraying water everywhere. Meanwhile, Bart screamed and flailed wildly in a desperate attempt to get Infected man off of him. He finally managed to do it, but not before the creature had taken a small chunk out of his neck.

Kyle grunted. "Shit."

Inhuman screams suddenly pierced the air, shattering the sense of security that everyone had had just seconds earlier. To make things worse, the echoes made it seem as if the screams were coming from _everywhere_. Kyle tried to locate the source.

"Run!" Michael suddenly shouted and dashed in one direction. Ken followed almost instantly while Kyle and C.J. hesitated a few seconds. Bart was more focused on hole in the side of his neck and lagged behind quite a ways.

"W-wait…! C.J.! Wait up! Please, wait!" Bart pleaded as he tried to catch up.

Kyle glanced back at the blond security guard just in time to see a look of fear, horror and concern all rolled into one on his face. All in all, he looked pathetic. Unfortunately, Kyle couldn't deny his job as a soldier.

"Fuck me." He grunted and made his way back to the security guard. He grabbed his left wrist and gave him a strong jerk, pulling him along. "Come on, dammit! Come on!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Kyle saw multiple figures making their way toward both him and Bart through a dark tunnel.

"Shit, go!" Kyle stopped and turned awkwardly, raising his M4. He squeezed the trigger of his carbine back, firing pretty much blindly into the dark tunnel, trying to target the silhouettes. Out of twelve rounds, four dropped, but three got back up. Meanwhile, Bart raced ahead, managing to catch up with the others as they blasted a lock off of a gate.

"Kyle! Come on! Get your ass over here!" Michael beckoned.

Kyle swore, burping off a couple more rounds into the dark before abandoning his futile attempt at postponing the Infected. He made it into the small fenced area just in time to avoid a large bald man who'd been running after him. Kenneth and Michael tried to close the gate, but another man dressed in denim tried to force it's way in.

C.J. was having none of this. He raised the axe he had been given over his shoulders and thrust it forward, smashing the top against the curly haired man's face. The Infected man fell back hard and the others slammed the gate closed. C.J. threw himself against it, using himself as a barricade.

"Fucking shit!" Bart cried, moving as far away from the gate as he could.

"Goddamn this bullshit!" Kyle snarled and raised his M4, switching it to semi-auto before joining Kenneth at picking Infected off the fence as best he could.

"C.J.! Move!" Michael shouted and scrambled over to the fence with another lock in his hand. The security guard complied and quickly rolled out of the way, allowing Michael to snap the lock in place. Unfortunately, the lock didn't prevent the Infected from climbing onto, up and trying to get over the fence.

"Gun! I need a gun!" C.J. shouted, trying uselessly to smash his axe through the fence to hit the Infected.

Making a split second decision, Kyle snatched his M9 out of its holster and two magazines from a pouch he had. He shouted C.J.'s name and got his attention. Kyle grunted and shoved the weapon into his hand. "Tell me if you need more. Don't fuck us over." He said before releasing his grip on the weapon.

It seemed like an eternity as Kyle, Kenneth and C.J. worked together to force Infected off of the fence. Meanwhile, Michael was working to do... well, Kyle wasn't entirely sure _what_ Michael was trying to do. He just hoped it could save their asses. When Kenneth's Remington ran dry, Michael tossed him the Cruiser instead of allowing him to reload for speed's sake. Kyle was a good halfway through his second magazine before Michael stepped forward, gasoline pump in his hand.

"Oh shit." Kyle blinked as the other male began to douse the fence, floor and Infected with gasoline.

"C.J.! Matches!" Michael urged.

C.J. nodded and patted himself down before producing the lighter he'd had earlier. He opened the small silver device and flicked the wheel twice. When a flame came dancing out, a becon of hope in this dark corner. He drew his arm back and chucked the Zippo forward. The young Marine had to cover his eyes as the area that had been drenched in gas ignited in flames, lighting everything up. Everyone moved back quite a bit as the remaining Infected were engulfed in flames. They screamed and threw themselves against the fence, trying desperately to get in. Finally, they began to retreat.

One Infected in particular jumped onto the fence though, shaking the wiring wildly with all her might. She might've been a pretty teenage girl at one point, but a combination of decomposition, and terrible first, second and third degree burns had distorted her face tremendously. With one last shriek, she released the gate and retreated along with the others, her body still in flames.

Everyone sighed in relief as the flames began to die down. The smell of dead, burnt flesh stung Kyle's nostrils though.

"Ungh…" Bart groaned in pain.

C.J. turned to his fallen friend and crouched down beside him.

"Jesus… They really did a number on you Bart." He said, examining the wound. "But I think you'll live."

Shit. No one had told them about the bites. Kyle glanced at the downed security guard and frowned. His face was pale and sweaty, a familiar sense of weakness and defeat in his eyes. Kyle shuddered, remembering how Logan had looked before he turned.

"C.J." Kenneth spoke up.

The older security guard looked back at the cop. "What?"

Ken only frowned. He sighed and jerked his head. "Come here. I gotta tell you something."

"Fuck you." C.J. growled, narrowing his eyes.

"C.J., Bart's not going to be fine! It's the goddamned bites!" Kyle suddenly blurted.

Everyone turned and looked at the Marine. Bart's weakness and defeat was now replaced with fear and panic. Michael sighed and turned away while Ken only grunted. C.J. snarled and glared daggers.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He spat, standing up.

"It's the bites, C.J…" Kyle explained, wishing he hadn't said anything in the first place. "When you're bitten, you turn into one of those fuckers. Almost everyone in the group has seen it, including me."

Bart whimpered softly and stood up. C.J. growled and suddenly brought the pistol up, aiming it directly at Kyle's head. Ken and Michael both raised their shotguns, but C.J. kept the gun trained. "Shut the fuck up! Just shut the fuck up, you don't know shit! Bart come on, we're getting out of here."

"B-but… He said it's the bites. I-I don't wanna die!" Bart said, leaning up against the fence.

"You're not gonna die, Bart. This guy's just full of shit."

"I'm not lying." Kyle said. "I had to kill my best friend."

The Lieutenant could relate to this situation. There's no telling how long C.J. and Bart had been friends before this whole thing and being in that cell must have made them something akin to brothers. Just like how he and Logan had been.

"I don't wanna die!" Bart said again. He sounded like a small child.

C.J. didn't lower the pistol. He kept the weapon raised, his finger on the trigger. He glanced over at Bart then back at Kyle. He was trying to decide what to do. After a few long seconds, he dropped his arm down to his side.

"Goddammit!" He roared and turned around, lashing out at one of the fences with his foot. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" He continued cursing and kicking until he nearly lost his balance then leaned up against the fence.

"Y-you're really fucking sure it's the bites?" Bart whimpered.

"Yes, we're sure." It was Kenneth's turn to answer.

"I'm sorry, guys…" Michael said sympathetically.

"Bullshit!" C.J. barked, pointing a finger at Michael. "Bullshit," He repeated, putting emphasis on both words. "If you had half a chance, you'd feed us to those fucks!"

In a rare moment, Michael growled angrily, going on the defensive. "Then why didn't we?"

C.J. snarled and dropped the conversation, turning back to Bart who stared at him pleadingly, as if he could do something to stop his transformation.

"What are we going to do?" He asked weakly.

"I dunno Bart." C.J. said, defeated.

"Wh-what do you mean you don't know! You're the man with the plan, C.J.! The man with the plan!" Bart shouted hoarsely.

Regardless of their type of relationship, C.J. was the superior one; the older brother, the alpha dog of the pack, the Batman, the Seth Gecko, "the man with the plan" as Bart had just put it. C.J. turned away from Bart and made his way to the other trio. As he approached, he spoke in a hushed tone.

"How long does he have?" He asked.

"Judging by his looks and the bite, probably not that long. Five minutes, tops." Michael replied.

"Sounds about right." Kyle nodded in agreement.

C.J. looked back at his friend then turned back to Kyle, Ken and Michael. He gritted his teeth and glared. "I swear to God, if you're lying to me, I'll—"

"C.J." Michael said firmly. "We're not lying."

C.J. didn't respond. He simply turned away and walked back over to Bart, taking a seat beside him. Kyle and the others turned away to attend to their own business and give the two security guards some time for closure.

"Well," Ken said. "we found the generators."

"Yep." Michael nodded, glancing over a large cluster of machines.

Kyle chuckled softly as he examined the generators then frowned. "Either of you have any idea on how to work them?"

Michael simply shrugged, but Ken nodded.

"Yeah, I do. Just leave it to me and C.J. He knew where the generators were, he probably knows how to work them too." The Sergeant said.

"Yeah, but will he actually be willing to help us?" Michael asked, a bit a concerned. "I mean, he wasn't that trustworthy in the beginning and we kind of had to force him along this time. What's to say he won't backstab us?"

"I doubt it." Kyle said, vouching for the mall security guard. "When Bart's gone, we'll be all he has. If he tries to kill or betray us, he'll be on his own and that's not good. He knows that."

In reality, the Lieutenant had absolutely no idea whether or not C.J. would help them or if he was really intelligent enough to know going at this situation alone was suicide. However, he'd give C.J. the benefit of a doubt.

There was a loud crack and Kyle suddenly snapped out of his thoughts. When he turned around, Bart was now lying on his side, slumped from his sitting position. C.J. was busy prying the M9 from his hands, grunting. _Damn,_ Kyle thought. _he shot himself._

As C.J. stood, he jammed the pistol into the back of his waistband. He gave Bart one final glance then sighed and turned back to the others. There was no way C.J. was going to mourn for his dead friend in front of anyone else. He had too much pride for that.

"Well, we gonna sit round pussy-footing all day or are we gonna do this? Let's hurry up." C.J. said, walking toward the generators.

The others nodded and headed toward the generators as well. Kyle and Michael may have had no idea how to do anything, but they'd help if they could. As Kenneth and C.J. went to work on the generators, Kyle kept a close watch on the latter of the two.

Something in the security guards body language had changed. It was no longer so edgy and hostile. It was apparent that C.J. was no longer a threat to them; he was on their side. This was good. In this hellhole, they could use all the help they could get.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I changed this scene for a good reason. I felt that Bart and C.J. relationship didn't have much light shed on it in the movie, nor did Bart have enough scene time. I think he was a bit of an underdeveloped character.

I want it to be known that C.J. and Bart are **not** supposed to have a romantic relationship in this story, just that they were very close, like brothers which allows Kyle to sympathize with him.


	8. Chapter 7B: Chatting with Norma

**Author's Note:** Bwahaha! Here's Chapter 7.2! This story is roughly paralell to Chapter 7 as both happen in the same timeframe, for the most part, except 7.2 is what happened up inside the mall rather than down below in the parking garage.

It's Melissa's POV, so enjoy~

* * *

It had been about five minutes since Kyle and Michael, as well as the two locked up security guards, C.J. and Bart, had gone down to the parking garages. Melissa was sitting at the dinner table still in candle light, poking at the dinner she'd been rather enjoying before the blackout. Now she'd lost her appetite and the food was getting cold.

"How're you holdin' up, dear?"

Melissa looked up, spotting Norma waddling over, a flashlight in her hand. The former News Reporter forced a smile before looking back down at her dinner. "Good."

"You don't look it." Norma chuckled, taking a seat.

This time Melissa smiled for real.

"Concerned about our boys down stairs?" Norma questioned.

"More or less." Melissa replied.

"Yeah..." Norma reached into her pocket and fished out a cigarette. "Aren't we all. Don't worry though, I'm sure they'll be fine."

"Maybe more of us should've gone too."

Norma shot a glance at Melissa, blowing a small puff of smoke out. "Hun, you don't need to be worrying about them. Kyle's with 'em and they took his little machine gun, a pistol and one of the shotguns. They'll be fine."

Melissa smiled, brushing strands of hair back. "Yeah, I guess so..."

She still felt uneasy though. She felt as if she should've gone with them. The thought of something happening to Kyle or Michael bothered her. After all this time together, everyone here was pretty much family to her. The others felt this way and they all knew each others stories for the most part.

Norma was fifty-four years old, but still liked to live like she was younger. Age didn't seem to affect her at all and she loved hanging out with the younger women. All the girls in the group looked up to her, especially Monica, who seemed to have developed a Mother-Daughter relationship with her.

Steve had always been rich, being born into a rich family and loved to brag about himself. He and his family had made lots of money working with boats, which is where he got his love of the sea. He also happened to be a great golfer, that being his favorite past time besides boating.

Monica, like Steve, was rather pampered. She enjoyed expensive things, taking advantage of all the clothing and jewelry in the mall, and was a bit spoiled. She could be selfish and cold at times, but underneath it all she was a real sweetheart. However, her and Nicole didn't get along so well.

Speaking of Nicole, she was the youngest member of their group at eighteen. She had just started college about three months before everything started. Nicole was a great girl, really kind, but something told Melissa she wasn't completely... _right_ since she lost her family. When she and Terry had first gotten together, she clung to him like a flea and now that Chip had come along, she spent alot of time with him too.

Terry was a handsome young man, having gotten this job thanks to Bart, one of the locked up security guards. He had dreams of being an astronomer and had been saving up money to go to a good college. Unfortunately, it seemed he wouldn't be able to accomplish that with the way things were now.

Jack-of-all trades Michael was exactly what his title suggested. He had done plenty of things, probably more than everyone else in the group combined. He was a family man too, though, having been very devoted to his ex-wives and kids. All in all, he was a good guy and it made Melissa wonder why they had left him.

Tucker the trucker had been a hard-working, blue collar man before all of this started. He and Kyle had become quite close, sharing a brotherly bond of sorts. He was a normal man, always ogling the girls, but it was all for show. He didn't have much interest in the girls in the group as he'd given up on relationships along time ago.

Glen, the elderly organ player who'd been picked up at St. Verbena along with about half the group was a homosexual. He made no effort to hide it and wasn't ashamed. He enjoyed his life style and was a nice man. He was also quite a comedian, always making others in the group laugh when he wasn't being so solemn.

Police Sergeant Kenneth Pine was a calm, collected and tough man. Between his military service and police duties, he had become known as one of the serious fighters in the group, right next to Kyle, Michael and Andre. At first he had been very cold and to himself, but he'd opened up over time. He wasn't a social butterfly or anything, but he was certainly alot better than when everything first started.

She even knew a bit about two security guards who were locked up. Bart, or Batholomew and as she purposely called him, was always hitting on her when she came by the holding cell. She didn't share his affection and never called him by his nickname to annoy him and always shot down his advances.

Meanwhile, C.J. was an asshole. He didn't try to be nice and had had no qualms about turning the truck away if the others hadn't taken control from him. Nobody knew what 'C.J.' stood for, he wouldn't tell anybody. There was currently a pool for guesses on what it stood for and if she remembered correctly, it was up to about $600 now.

The only two people she didn't really know anything about were Andre and his wife Luda. Andre kept to himself and Melissa was sure she hadn't met Luda more than twice. They seemed to be a solitary couple. There was nothing wrong with that, she supposed, but she would've enjoyed getting to know the two better. Maybe after she had her baby, they'd be a bit less reluctant to join the group.

It was Kyle though who had most of her attention. He was such a great guy and they'd gotten so close in this past month. She felt closer to him than anybody else. She'd been thinking alot about what she and the girl's had talked about that night. Maybe they were right, maybe she _did_ feel for Kyle in romantic way...

Sighing, Melissa looked over at Norma. "Got an extra cigarette?"

Norma blinked, having been caught off guard. "Didn't know you smoked."

"Used to." Melissa chuckled. "I smoked for a year and a half when I in High School. Made my Mom cry when she found out so I quit."

Norma laughed and reached into her pocket, fumbling with her cigarette pack until she retrieved one. She held it out along with her lighter and Melissa took them. Lighting the end, she brought the butt to her mouth and took a heavy drag. She instantly coughed, her eyes tearing up. Norma erupted with laughter, shaking her head.

"Been too long, eh?" She asked.

"Y-y..." Melissa coughed."Yeah..."

As the two ladies shared a chuckle, Kenneth went marching by, loading a couple of shells into his shotgun. Melissa and Norma exchanged glances then spoke up.

"Hey Kenny!" Norma was probably the only person who could get away with calling him 'Kenny'. If anybody else dared try that, he'd probably knock their teeth down their throat.

Flinching, Kenneth stopped and turned. "Yeah?"

"Where ya goin' sweetie?" Norma asked.

"Down there to help." He replied.

"Oh? You don't think they have enough fire power?"

"It ain't about the fire power." Ken grunted. "I don't want them screwin' up down there, or worse yet, C.J. and his little blond friend gettin' into trouble and screwin' up. Michael doesn't look like he could put up much of a fight."

Norma chuckled and nodded. "Alright then, be careful. Tell the boys the same."

"Right." Kenneth nodded then turned and continued walking.

When he was out of ear shot, Norma turned back to Melissa and smiled. "Now you definitely don't have to worry darlin'."

Melissa laughed and nodded. "Alright, alright. I got it." After a few seconds, she stubbed out the cigarette she'd taken and handed it back out to Norma.

"Don't want it anymore?" Norma asked.

"Nah." Melissa said with a hand wave. "Doesn't taste good anymore."

"It's an acquired taste Hun." Norma said with a chuckle.

The women laughed again. Melissa smiled, propping her head up with her hand. She liked this, just being with people who cared about her. Norma, Ana, Michael, Monica, Nicole, Terry, Glen, Kenneth, Tucker, Kyle and even Steve, or so she hoped. She may have gone through Hell to get where she was at, but that made it all the more worth it.

"Hey, do you guys wanna help me move some supplies?"

The two women turned and faced Ana, who had managed to sneak up on them. She had a large container of fruity drinks in her arms. It wasn't what would normally be served a place like Hollow Grounds, but they made due with what they had.

"Sure thing." Norma said, standing up. Melissa joined her.

Together, the three of them went back and forth, making three trips from a couple different stores and back to Hollow Grounds, hauling different types of drinks. Melissa was down behind the counter, putting various drinks away while Ana and Norma passed crates over the counter. She didn't know where the guys were, they were off doing their own thing.

"Thanks." Ana said as Norma passed her a plastic black crate.

"That's the last." Norma replied.

"Hey, I'm gonna go check of Luda. It's been a while since I've seen her." Ana said, beginning to make her way around the counter.

"Oh, I'll go." Norma volunteered.

"You sure?"

"Yep. Take them some candles."

"Okay. Let me know if they need anything."

Norma nodded. "Okay. I'll have a smoke on the way."

"We should all work to quit." Melissa said loudly. "Those things'll kill you if we don't run out first."

"Yeah, well," Norma pulled a cigarette out of her pocket and lit the end. "I don't intend on dying for a while and until something happens, I intend on enjoying this simple little pleasure."

"If you insist." Melissa laughed. "See ya later."

"See you guys."

The two girls at Hollow Grounds began stashing away the supplies, keeping the small coffee stand supplied with food and drinks. They made idle chit-chat as they worked, when a a loud pop caught their attention. Both turned the direction it had come from as another followed about two seconds later. Melissa couldn't be sure, but the two shots sounded different somehow.

"What was-"

Another bang.

"Shit."

Two more pops sounded off as Ana and Melissa moved, heading in the direction the shots were coming from. Another loud crack pierced the air was they met up with Terry, Steve, Tucker and Glen. A couple more shots sounded off as they rounded a corner, heading toward The Carousel baby supply store.

Terry was right behind Ana, a revolver in his hands. Melissa was just beside him, the others behind her. Ana pulled open the doors and her and Terry went inside, Melissa following quickly behind them.

Immediately, the smell of blood, death and molded food hit them. Melissa brought her hand to her mouth, gagging.

"Norma!" Ana shouted and was crouching beside Norma, who had a series of holes in her torso, blood trickling from her mouth. "Norma. Norma, what happened?"

The pour old woman gurgled blood as she choked out her final words. "Son of bitch... sh-shot me..."

Her head fell to the side and she stopped breathing. Tears stung Melissa's eyes as her heart sunk.

_No... No, no, no..._

Melissa glanced at Monica, who had tears streaming down her cheeks by now.

"Get away from her!" Terry commanded, pulling the hammer back on his gun.

"Wait." Ana pleaded. "Wait! Just wait! She... She died of a gun shot. She wasn't bitten."

"She's gonna wake up though, right?" Terry asked.

"No." Ana shook her head. "No, if she was one of them, she would've been up by now."

"What..." Monica sobbed. "What happened...?"

Tucker and Steve were standing off to the side, turned away from the others. Ana stepped forward, pushing her way between them and Melissa followed. It was infront of them they found the answer; Luda was tied down to a bed, blood covering the pillow and bed frame behind her while Andre was lying on his back, across her legs, holes riddling his chest. He wasn't moving.

_He shot her._ Melissa stared at the dead man, anger building up inside her. _He shot her for one of those things._

Held tightly in his left arm was a small pink bundle. Ana cautiously stepped forward, then commanded for Terry to take her flashlight. Everyone stared as Ana moved the blanket.

There, wrapped up, was a pale, newborn baby. It was very clear it was dead, however, it opened it's eyes and squirmed, shrieking loudly and suddenly.

"Oh my God." Melissa quickly spun away, not being able hold back the vomit anymore.

She emptied her stomach then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She felt someone's hand on her shoulder and turned, looking at Tucker.

"Let's go get you some water to wash the taste out." He said. She nodded and the two began to exit the store.

Shortly after they left, she heard someone fire a gun, putting an end to the abomination that had just gotten two members of their group killed. Tucker led Melissa to Hollow Grounds and she took a small swig of water just to wash the taste away. The vomit may have been gone, but Melissa still had a disgusting taste in her mouth. The two didn't speak. They kept their heads down, staying silent until the others had come back from the parking lots. Bart was missing and suddenly Melissa couldn't hold back the tears.

She threw her arms around Kyle, burying her face in his chest as she began to cry. He frowned and returned the hug, slowly rubbing her back.

"What happened?" Michael asked.

"It... I... We..." Ana stopped. She couldn't find the words.

"Norma and Andre are dead." Tucker said quickly.

"What?"

"You, uh... just follow me." He said and began walking back toward the scene. Terry, Kenneth, Michael and C.J. followed. Kyle stayed behind, comforting Melissa because she just couldn't bring herself to go back. Instead, she clung to Kyle, crying quietly, just as he had when Logan had died.

She tried to convince herself that Norma, Andre, Luda and their child were in a better place now.

_They're in a better place. They're in a better place._ She repeated in her head, over and over.

For some reason, she didn't believe it.


	9. Chapter 8: Preperations

Watching people you were close to be buried was something you could never get used to. Kyle knew this all too well from experience. The first time he'd experienced such a pain was when his childhood friend Robert Holbrook, or Robbie as they always called him, had been killed during a mugging in an alleyway some years back - gunned down.

And over what? Seventeen dollars and eighty-nine cents.

The second time was more recent. Kyle's younger sister, Angela Ambrose, had been killed while at a convenience store. According to the reports Kyle had read, two assailants came in through the front door, demanding the cashier to put money in a bag. Angie had taken cover and drew her gun before stepping out into the open to confront them. Both robbers were startled and ready to give up but there had been another unexpected robber who had entered the store earlier.

With Angie unaware, he stepped out from his hiding place and shot her three times; twice in the back and once in the back of head. The criminals made off with about ninety-five dollars altogether and were caught a week later trying to rob another convenience store two counties over.

The third time had been with Logan and now this...

The First Lieutenant sighed as he watched Terry pull a white sheet over Andre's body. The younger male glanced back, frowning. "Somebody should say something..." He said.

Ana nodded. "Yeah."

"Glen." Steve said, a strange sadness in his voice mixed with his usual selfishness.

Everybody glanced at the older male. Glen shuddered and shook his head. "No."

"You worked in the church." Ana said, giving him a slightly pleading look.

"I played the organ." Glen said.

"Come on, man." C.J. looked up, shooting a glare at the former organ player. "You must've heard the priest say something about life and death."

"It was a job." Glen shrugged. "I don't believe in God." He said firmly. "I don't see how anyone could."

"Amen to that..." Kyle grunted.

Melissa glanced over at the Marine, sighing sadly. "Somebody should say _something_." She insisted.

Kenneth scoffed before stepping forward. "There's nothin' to say." The Police Sergeant said, using his hands to dot a crucifix across his torso. "Been to a lot of funerals. Folded the flag and given it to a lot of wives and fathers and kids. And told them how sorry I was. But that's not what I was really feeling. In the back of my mind, I was always saying, 'Better them than me.' But I don't believe that now. Because now I realize there are worse things than death, and one of 'em is setting here waiting to die."

There was a brief moment of silence as Ken's speech set in. Ana finally broke that silence with a sentence that was probably on everyone's mind.

"I don't wanna die here."

With this said, she turned around, glancing from Kyle, to C.J., to Michael. Kyle and Michael exchanged glances before the latter spoke.

"I... saw a couple of buses in the garage. We could fix 'em up, we could reinforce them." Michael explained, seemingly off the top of his head.

"Then what?" Monica said, still shaken from Norma's death. The two had been like family.

"Then we get the fuck outta here." Kyle said, shrugging his shoulders. "We get as far away from this shithole as we can."

"Yeah, but where?" Tucker said, frowning a bit.

"Oh! I have an idea." Steve spoke up, moving toward the counter at Hollow Grounds. "Um, while we're at it why don't we swing by the marina, hop in my boat and take it for a pleasure cruise, you jackasses!" He said with fake enthusiasm.

Kyle narrowed his eyes a bit. "Prick." He mumbled under his breath.

"Wait a minute." Ana spoke with sudden realization. "That's a good idea, there's islands out in those lakes. There's not alot of people on them."

Kyle and Melissa exchanged weary looks. Was she serious?

"I was kidding..." Steve seemed to share their thoughts for once.

Michael stood up, looking over at Steve. "How far is the marina?" He asked.

"Oh my God!" Steve chuckled a bit, looking up at everyone, waiting for the punchline. His expression became serious when he saw everyone else's face. "You're serious?"

"I think it's a damn good idea." Michael nodded. "H-how about the rest of ya?" Michael began glancing around at everyone, stopping at Ken. "Kenneth?"

The Police Sergeant gave a quick nod. "Yeah, it's a good idea. We have to pick up Andy though, he's part of the group."

"I agree." Kyle said with a twisted smirk. "We still have a score to settle."

It was C.J.'s turn to speak next. "Excuse me, uh, not to shit on anyone's riff here, but lemme just see if I grasp this concept, okay?" He paused a second, giving anybody the chance to object. When nobody did, he continued.

"You're suggesting that we take some fucking parking shuttles and reinforce them with some aluminum siding and then just head on over to the gun store where we watch our good friend Andy play some cowboy-movie, jump-on-the-covered-wagon bullshit?" He paused, taking a breath. "_Then_ we're going to drive across the ruined city through a welcome committee of a few hundred thousand dead cannibals, all so we sail off into the sunset on this fucking asshole's boat?" C.J. pointed back Steve, who simply smirked and as usual didn't care about the insult. "And head for some island that for all we know doesn't even exist?"

"Yeah." Kenneth replied.

"Sounds about right." Kyle smirked, shrugging.

"Pretty much, yeah." Tucker said with a nod.

Michael nodded as C.J. turned to him. "Yeah."

Finally, Steve gave a thumbs up and a big, fake grin.

"Okay." C.J. nodded, taking it in for a second. "I'm in."

* * *

The garage where the buses were held always seemed to smell like stale vomit for some reason.

Kyle was walking by C.J., who was crouched down beside a large propane tank, a large bundle of what soon before aluminum reinforcement for the buses propped up on his right shoulder. He watched as the ex-security guard scribbled down a '36' then underlined it on the side.

"Sure that's right?" Kyle asked as he walked by.

"Damn sure. I checked three times just for good measure." C.J. responded, standing up.

"Cool." Kyle nodded as he set the large strips of metal next the buses entrance where they would be taken by Michael and Kenneth to be used as reinforcement.

"Mind helping me get this thing inside the bus?" C.J. asked now, casting a glance back at Kyle.

"Sure thing." Kyle smiled and nodded, walking over to the propane tank.

Together, the two lifted and moved the large tank toward the bus. Kyle went in backwards, stepping up onto the steps, moving in first before C.J. With the bus seats gone, there was much more room to maneuver. Earlier, Michael and Kyle had tried the same thing on the other bus without having removed the seats first and Kyle had nearly broken his hand in the process of getting it to the back. However, Kyle and his current partner moved the tank to the back with little effort.

"Thanks Kyle." C.J. said as they placed the tank down.

"No problem." Kyle nodded. The Marine then began making his way toward the buses front doors as C.J. picked up a drill, beginning to bolt the tank down to the floor.

It was an odd feeling. Everyone in the group - minus Steve, who made the excuse of not having to work because he was "Captain" - was doing their fair share of work. Everyone was working together toward the same goal. Funny that it took an apocalypse to bring a group of strangers so close together.

As Kyle stepped off the bus, he turned toward the front where Nicole was crouched down, a can spray paint in hand. He chuckled and shuffled over to her, his hands in his pockets.

"Working hard?" He asked casually.

The redhead looked up at him and smiled, nodding. "Yep."

The Marine stepped forward, turning to see the young woman's work. On the front of the bus, where they'd stuck a snow plow, were a series of black and red triangles, forming a long line of teeth. He laughed, nodding in approval. "Nice job."

"Thanks." Nicole beamed. "I got the idea from Chip's when he was yawning."

Smirking a bit, Kyle glanced down at her once more. "So had exactly did you get to be so good at spray painting?" He inquired with a devious smile.

Nicole's cheeks tinted a light shade of pink, her eyes moving from his face to the yellow background where she'd been spraying. "Umm..."

Kyle laughed. "Yeah, yeah, I understand. I wasn't always Marine material. I have a criminal record too."

"Really?" She blinked.

"Yeah." He dragged the word out. "Not something I'm particularly proud of, but, ya know. We all do dumb things as kids."

They shared a laugh and Nicole grinned. "I'm glad soldiers aren't always so perfect either."

"Far from it." Kyle replied.

"Hey Kyle!"

The Lieutenant turned as Michael called him. The jack-of-all-trades was standing on a step ladder, a blow torch in hand. "Mind giving me a hand over here?"

"Yeah, be there in a sec!" Kyle answered before turning back to Nicole. He smiled, giving her a thumbs up. "Keep up the good work."

She nodded up at him and he turned, walking over to Michael now. Kyle looked up at the older male as he approached.

"Uh, yeah, I just need to borrow you for a sec. I figure it'll be easier if you pass me up the materials," Michael pointed to some strips of aluminum that were leaning up against the bus. "and I just weld them on really quickly. I'll go over 'em again, I just need you for a few minutes."

"No problem."

"Cool." Michael flipped down the steel mask that protected his eyes and Kyle picked up a long sheet of siding, passing it up to him.

After the fourth sheet of siding, Kyle looked up at the other male, pinching his lips. He'd been thinking about asking about it for a long time, he'd just never been able to find the right moment. Why not now? Without anymore hesitation, Kyle asked, "So... you used to be a Dad?"

Michael looked down. After a few awkward seconds of silence, he lifted his protective mask up and looked Kyle in the eye. "Yeah."

"Hope you were a better Father than mine." Kyle remarked.

"Heh..." Michael smiled sadly. "I loved my kids. David and Miranda were my world."

"Were... you with them when this all started?"

Michael frowned, hesitating. "Nope. I haven't seen 'em in five years. Last time I saw them, Miranda was learning how to walk and David was just starting Kindergarten."

"Oh." Kyle felt bad for asking about it now. "I'm sorry."

"Aren't we all." Michael shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not concerned though." Kyle could tell he was lying. "Samantha married a police officer last I heard."

"I see..." Kyle offered a weak smile, looking up. "Well, if things ever go back to normal, I'll see what I can do for you Michael. I've got friends in high places."

"Thanks Kyle." The older man smiled genuinely for the first time since the conversation started. "That means a lot to me."

"No worries." Kyle grinned. "What're friends for?"

The conversation steered in a different, less sensitive direction as they continued to work, eventually finishing the siding quite quickly. Together, the group managed to accomplish quite a lot of work, more than expected, but they were still far from done. They still had more to add more reinforcements, bring down supplies and load them onto the buses, make sure the buses were all fueled up and the list went on. They calculated it would take another five or so days to complete.

Little did they know five days was a luxury they didn't have...


	10. Chapter 9: Misfortunate Souls

**Author's Note:** I got this chapter out extremely fast. I'm pleased with myself~

I enjoyed writing this scene again, comparing it to my old work and seeing how far I've come is turly amazing.

Hope you guys enjoy, hope it doesn't feel too rushed.

* * *

Andy was hungry.

That was the reason for this sudden meeting. Everyone was arguing about what should be done about the sharpshooter across the way, more or less. More accurately, they were debating how they were going to get some type of food over to the poor guy. Kyle now felt a bit sorry for his rival marksman. If it were possible, he'd hand deliver the food himself.

"There's absolutely no way we can _get_ any food to him. What're we gonna do, go out there all commando against that big-ass crowd?" As much of an asshole as Steve was, he had a point. When he got only grunts and glares as responses, he nodded. "Exactly. See? Totally out of the question. If you all work as well you did earlier, then we can get this whole thing done-."

"For Christ's sake Steve, the poor guy's starving to death over there!" Monica said suddenly. "If you were in that position, you'd want food as soon as possible too."

Steve grunted, shaking his head.

"It's not just about him starving Steve." Ana said, losing patience. "If we go to pick him up and he doesn't have his strength, then we're going to be carrying him."

"She's right." Tucker chimed in. "He's a helluva shot too. We're gonna need him as much as we need anybody."

"Tucker, I'm not saying we don't need him-"

"Look, there's no point in arguing about this." Michael cut Steve off. "We need a solution, we need to get some food over there."

"Okay." Steve held up a hand. "I have an idea. We draw straws and the loser runs across the lot with a ham sandwich."

This got a chuckle out of a few people, including Kyle surprisingly enough. Michael and Ana on the other hand were not so easily amused.

"Could you be a bigger prick?" Ana asked. If Kyle didn't know any better, he'd almost say it was a genuine question.

"I think so." Steve answered in the same tone. "But, you know what? That's irrelevant. My question to you is what's your plan?"

Kyle sighed, glancing at others in the group. As much as he hated to admit it, Steve was right; nobody had any good plans as to how to get sustenance to Andy and this debate was veering off course into an argument.

"We're not going to leave him on his own to die, alright?" Michael said firmly. "We got to get over there any 'cause we need more ammunition, alri-"

"Shut up!" Kenneth's voice was like thunder and it was suddenly very quiet with everyone glancing over at the Police Sergeant. "I have an idea."

* * *

Kyle hung back as they attached Chip to the crane. His arms were crossed over his chest and he watched Nicole pleading for them to stop, Terry doing his best to comfort her. Ken's idea was a bit... odd, to say the least.

He'd explained everything quite clearly; when they were down in the parking garage, they had found the small black and white dog despite the fact it was littered with Infected. This had to mean that the Infected hadn't attacked Chip, or else he'd be just like the slowly growing crowd outside the mall. Going on this idea, Kenneth suggested that the dog be used to deliver the food and other supplies.

Nicole had instantly protested, but thanks to much persuasion, she finally caved, not that she had had much choice in the first place honestly. It took about twenty minutes to load Chip up and now they were beginning to lower him down.

Nicole was still fearful, watching with wide eyes as her lovable, furry friend descended into the group that would surely tear any other of the survivors to pieces. The Lieutenant only hoped Chip wouldn't suffer the same fate, for the dog's, as well as Andy and Nicole's sake.

As the dog went lower and lower, the ones closest began to raise their hands, eying the dog hungrily, wondering what was being lowered to them. Just as Ken theorized, the Infected ignored Chip as soon as they realized he wasn't food. Or at least, not their type of food.

As soon as Andy blew his metal whistle, Chip began to waddle over toward the gun shop.

"See? Look." Terry said cheerfully. "He's walking right by them! They're not even paying attention to him." This seemed to sooth Nicole.

For now.

Soon enough though, Nicole darted over to Kenneth and snagged the binoculars so she could watch her dog's progress. Kyle was satisfied, however. The dog was bringing needed supplies to Andy and soon he'd be able to shake the sniper's hand, and possibly challenge him to a rematch.

"You look so serious." Melissa said, catching the Marine off-guard.

"Oh..." Kyle blinked, glancing over at her. "Kind of a tense time, don't you think?"

"Not really." Melissa shrugged.

Suddenly there was a loud pop, followed by another, then another. More and more followed.

They two exchanged worried glances.

"Still don't think so?" Kyle asked. Melissa frowned in response before they joined the others.

"Andy?" He heard Michael ask pleadingly.

A couple of seconds later, Andy's voice came through the small walkie-talkie's speaker. "Can you hear me? Hello? Listen, one got in. I'm dinged up pretty bad, but I think I'm gonna be okay." He sounded tired, older than he looked. "I just have to stop the bleeding, it's really goin'."

"Where are you hurt Andy?" Michael asked worriedly.

"Damn, those bastards bite hard." Andy commented.

"Shit." Kyle's eyes shut and he stepped back, bringing a hand to his forehead.

"Hey, hey. Who is this? Is this Ken, or Kyle?" Andy asked.

"Yeah, it's me brother." Ken said, taking the walkie-talkie.

"Hey man, it's good to hear your voice. Guess we're all gonna meet up soon, huh? What about Kyle. Where's Kyle at?"

Ken held the walkie-talkie out and Kyle took it reluctantly. "Yo, it's me Andy. It's Kyle."

He heard Andy laugh before speaking. "You sound younger than I thought you would. You're a damned good shot man, I can't believe we tied everytime. Just wait until we can work together, it's gonna be pretty sweet."

"Yeah." Kyle felt hollow inside. "Yeah man, I can't wait."

Ken reached over and took the walkie-talkie back when Kyle held it out. The conversation continued, but Kyle wasn't paying much attention. Andy was as good as dead now; even though he hadn't even met the man face-to-face, he felt like he was going to lose another good friend. It was a shitty feeling.

"Hey Melissa, d-"

He heard someone starting an engine.

"What the hell is that?"

"Oh my God! It's Nicole!" Terry said, voice thick with fear.

"Goddammit!" Kyle was behind Michael as the group rushed over to the side of the building. He didn't see Melissa anywhere. That wasn't good.

Surely enough, both women were down below. They'd taken the late Norma's truck and drove it from the mall to the gun store, Melissa running down as many of the Infected as she could.

"That idiot's going after the fucking dog." Steve said.

"_Idiots_." Kyle corrected. "Melissa's with her."

"Son of a bitch." C.J. grunted. "This isn't a fucking nursery school."

The truck came to a stop, gently ramming Andy's store. Nicole had been in the passengers side and clambered out first. Melissa was next, climbing over the seats. Even from this distance, he could see the Reporter fish a handgun out of her waistband. She raised her arm and fired upwards, through the roof. Suddenly, she dropped the handgun to the floor board, grabbing her hand. Not bothering the retrieve the gun, she hastily crawled toward the passenger's door as Infected swarmed the truck. A knot formed in Kyle stomach, twisting tightly, making him feel sick.

"They made it. They're in." Kenneth announced.

He let out a relieved sigh and the knot vanished.

"We got Chip." Melissa's voice came over the walkie. "He's okay."

Kyle stared at the radio, as if Melissa and Nicole would suddenly crawl through it.

"Hey, hey. How's Andy looking..?" Michael asked, bringing the walkie up to his mouth.

"Uhh... I-I dunno. I lost my gun though. It cut me good too." Melissa sounded strangely calm.

"Holy shit." She said suddenly. "There's alot of blood in here. It's... it's all over the floor and counter. Christ, it's all over the place."

"I see Andy." Kenneth said, looking at the gun store's roof through the binoculars. Kyle could barely make Andy out, hunched over his whiteboard. "He's on the roof, he's writing something."

Far away, Andy held the whiteboard up but Kyle couldn't see what was on it. Too far.

"Tell her to get out." Ken snapped.

"How's the truck?" Michael asked, biting his lower lip.

"I think it's fine, I didn't hit hard." Melissa replied. "We'll be back though. We're gonna grab some guns and some ammo, get Andy and then we'll be right back."

"Melissa. There's no time. You're gonna have to get out of there _now_."

"It'll only take a few minutes, promise." She paused. "Oh, there's And- Holy shit! Nooo!"

There was the sound of shuffling feet, Nicole screaming frantically in the background, something about a closet. Then nothing.

"Melissa..?" Michael frowned. "Melissa? Nicole?" When he got no response, he lowered the walkie.

"We need to do something. Now." Ana had taken the words right out of Kyle's mouth.


	11. Chapter 10: Rush, Rescue, Retreat

Kenneth took point as they entered the stairwell, Kyle behind him, followed by C.J., then Michael and then Terry and Tucker between him and Steve who was bringing up the rear. A half-baked plan had been thrown together; take every gun and bit of ammunition left, go rescue the girls, collect supplies then return to the mall. The rest had already been established.

Easy enough. Who the hell were they kidding? "Easy enough" was never easy enough.

Kyle didn't care. All he cared about was getting to that gun store and making sure the girls were safe. Andy was screwed, that had been established by the bite and the fact he'd attacked the girls upon discovering them in his store. He had become one of them. If they encountered him in the store, he was to be killed. They could only hope they wouldn't have to dispose of Nicole or Melissa the same way...

When they'd all filed onto the top of the stairs, Michael turned to Tucker.

"Alright Tucker, listen. When we come back through here, we may have company. You need to stay here and make sure that fire door stays open." He explained, turning away and beginning to march down the stairs.

"Whoa-whoa. Wait, wait, wait. I'm sorry. Uh, why does he stay here while I go on the suicide mission to rescue two girls who're already dead?" Steve asked.

"Go to hell!" Kyle snapped.

"Fuck you, man!" Terry growled.

"We don't know that." Michael said firmly, trying to keep the fighting between each other to minimum.

"You know what, asshole? Either way we gotta get over there and get the guns and get out of this parking lot, alright?" C.J. snarled angrily.

"Michael, it's okay." Tucker said, reaching behind him and fetching Andre's old Beretta. "Let him stay." He said, handing it over to Steve.

Everyone was unsure of this decision, Kyle could tell. He didn't blame them. He didn't trust Steve as far as he could throw the bastard. Unfortunately, he had to push this aside and place his trust uneasily in this man's hands. It made his stomach turn.

"Steve." Michael shot him a look. "Don't fuck this up."

"Yeah." Steve nodded. "Totally."

With this, the rescue group made their way down the stairs. Luckily, they knew there were no Infected to worry about and the trip down all four stories was short and sweet. They broke out the welding torch they'd brought along and burned the locks off the steel door that blocked their path.

Next, they descended even lower, into the sewers. Strangely, it didn't smell half as bad as Kyle thought it would. Maybe he just didn't notice the bad smells because he was focused on his mission.

Slowly, the team navigated their way through a the series of pipes and concrete that was the sewers in ankle deep water. Kyle muttered to himself under his breath. Wet socks were a pet peeve of his. They passed up a couple of ladders that led up to the streets, but they weren't the ones they were looking for. Following a blueprints map, they made it all the way from the mall and across the lot to Andy's gun shop.

"This is it." C.J. said, tossing the blueprints aside. They had no use for them now.

"Are you sure?" Kyle asked, not wanting to chance a screw-up.

"I'm no plumber, but I know how to follow a map. Trust me, this is pretty much the end of the line here." C.J. replied.

"Alright then." Tucker said. "Up we go."

As usual, Kenneth was first. He clambered out of the manhole and onto the street, followed by Kyle, then C.J., Michael, Terry and finally Tucker, who was going to stay behind and close off the hole.

Even as Terry climbed out, things seemed to be going well. The Infected in the area hadn't taken notice of them, they all seemed to busy with their own things. As the small group moved toward the truck, Tucker pulled the manhole cover back over the hole.

This caused a sudden and unexpected, loud bang...

Shit hit the fan.

Kenneth's Remington came up, leveling with the head of a rather bloated woman who was coming at them. He eased the trigger back, turning most of her head into mist before racking the slide.

Kyle dropped into a crouch, switching his M4 to semi-auto before taking aim. He eased the trigger back, dropping a man who's intestines had been dragging along the ground.

"Go! Go!" C.J. shouted, squeezing off rounds from Norma's Model 66 snub nose.

Michael made it to the truck first, flinging the door open into the face of an Infected man and then shooting him in the leg before retreating through the truck. Kyle, Terry and C.J. all arrived at about the same time, while Kenneth was lagging just a bit behind. The trio at the truck's doors made a stand, firing off multiple rounds from their guns and holding off the Infected crowd for Kenneth.

"Christ! Hurry up, Ken! Hurry up!" C.J. yelled before turning and clambering into the truck. Kyle followed suit, then Terry. He could hear Ken still firing behind him.

"Fucking hell, what's he doing!" Terry said from behind.

"Don't worry about Ken, he'll be fine!" Kyle answered, stepping out of the opposite side of the truck.

He crouched down and rushed into the gun store, Terry not far behind. A couple of seconds later, Ken crashed down in front of the door, however, his infamous 870 shotgun was nowhere to be seen.

"Shit! Ken! Get in, hurry, hurry, hurry!"

The Sergeant didn't need to be told; he climbed in through the small door as quickly as possible, kicking at the Infected who grabbed at his feet. As soon as he was through, C.J. slammed the door closed.

"What happened to your Remington?" Kyle questioned.

"Forget about it." Kenneth responded, standing up and dusting himself off. "I'll find something else."

"Bastards..." Kyle mumbled to himself, shooting a glare at the wall which the infected were banging.

The group spread out, searching the store quickly.

"What do you need?"

".357's."

Kyle looked around the store, searching for .308 Winchester rounds. He needed more rounds for his M21 and if he remembered correctly, the .308 Winchester round was a good subsitute for the 7.62 rounds he probably wouldn't be able to find in this store. While he was at it, he decided to search for .223 Remington rounds as well, for his M4 Carbine.

As he searched, the Lieutenant stumbled (quite literally) across blood smeared all over the floor and in the middle, a handgun. He frowned a bit and crouched down. He picked the handgun up and examined it, quickly recognizing the weapon as a Heckler & Koch USP.

"Shit."

There was suddenly a banging noise coming from nearby, attracting everyone's attention. Ken and C.J. decided to check it out, Ken wielding a new-found and custom designed Remington 870, while C.J. had the Model 66. Kyle quickly stood up, setting the USP aside and fetching his M9 instead.

They rounded the corner that led into the back of the store. There was a small hallway, which led to a set of stairs that Kyle presumed led to the roof of the store. On the side of the stairs however, there was a closet door. And outside of that door, a zombified Andy was throwing himself against the door like a mad man, growling and grunting.

"Andy." Kenneth said, catching his friend's attention immediately. Andy's eyes were glossed over, and he bared his teeth angrily. _Hungrily_.

"I'm sorry brother..."

_Boom!_

The top half of Andy's head splashed the surrounding walls and his body crumpled to the floor. Kyle frowned as the man's body fell. He'd just lost another dear friend. When would this maddness end? Not soon enough for his tastes...

"Melissa? Nicole? Are you guys in there?" C.J. snapped Kyle out of his thoughts.

"We're here!" A muffled voice answered. Then the door swung open and out came Melissa, Nicole and Chip.

Terry and Nicole embraced quickly, both relieved to see the other was safe. Before he knew what was happening, Melissa had too thrown her arms around Kyle. He blinked, caught off-guard, but hugged her back.

"I'm glad you're alright." He said quietly.

"You too, hotshot." She giggled and stepped away. "I lost my gun..."

Kyle smiled and handed his M9 over to her. "Try not to lose this one." He said smugly.

"Alright." Michael Ken said, turning away. "Let's grab as much as we can carry."

With this, everyone was scurrying around the store, snatching up as many weapons and ammunition as they could and stuffed them into bags. Among the various weapons Kyle was grabbing, an M16 caught his eye. Curious, he studied the weapon closer and had a sudden realization.

The M16 wasn't actually an M16, but a look-a-like known as an Adler-Jager AP-74. It deeply resembled the M16, though, it was chambered with .22 Long Range rather than the standard 5.56 and had a "dummy magazine" fixed onto the weapon, where a smaller .22 magazine would be inserted. He picked the weapon up, finding it was also lighter than a normal M16. Around the barrel of the weapon, a tag with the name "Peter" was tied onto it. Kyle tore the tag away and tossed it away before collecting the weapon and going on with his search.

Another weapon, however, caught his eye as well. It was a Savage 99 lever-action rifle. He recognized the rifle because his Uncle had owned one and treasured the weapon as if it were his child. In Kyle's experience, the weapon had proved to reliable as well as powerful. After a quick check, he was pleased to find that the weapon took .308 Winchester rounds. Like the Adler-Jager though, there was a small tag with the name "Roger" written on it attached to the barrel.

"Peter and Roger." Kyle muttered to himself. "Must be the guy's who ordered the rifles."

As Kyle continued his raiding of weaponry, he noticed Nicole looking through various rifles Andy had had on display. She was fiddling with a bolt action rifle and looked like she needed help. He laughed and walked over, taking the weapon from her.

"Maybe you should try something a little more hand held." Kyle suggested, sliding open a display case that held multiple revolvers. He picked up one he recognized, an FIE Titan Tiger and handed it to her. ".38 Special. Not too strong, but enough to drop one of those things with a well placed shot."

Nicole nodded and took the weapon, smiling smally. "Um... Thank you Kyle, but I'd really like a rifle or a shotgun or something. Everybody else has got something like that and I feel like a burden."

Kyle blinked then smiled, nodding his head. "I've got just the thing!" He then fetched her the AP-74 he'd taken earlier, holding it out to her.

"This is a Adler-Jager AP-74 rifle. It holds .22 Long Range so it has virtually no kick." He gave her a small demonstration to show her how to load and ready the weapon. Surprisingly, she caught on fast. "I've done a bit of checking up and it's apparently been converted to semi-automatic, so well placed shots shouldn't be hard at all."

Nicole beamed up at him. "Thanks, Kyle."

He laughed, nodding. "No problem, kiddo."

Kyle returned to the blood smears on the floor and reached down, picking up the USP Andy had apparently discarded. Upon inspection, he found the weapon to take .45 rounds and loaded up the magazine beside the gun itself. A quick search led him to find seven more magazines and loaded them up as well, placing them in easy to reach places before slipping the USP into the holster around his hip to replace the M9 he'd given to Melissa.

It took a good hour or so to round up supplies, but eventually they group had gathered about as much as they could, however, there was still much more to take. If only they'd brought more bags. Oh well, they could just come back when they got the buses ready.

"So how're we getting out of here?" Nicole asked, brandishing the Adler-Jager rifle Kyle had given her earlier. It was almost comical seeing such a small girl wielding such a large rifle, especially a girl like Nicole.

"You got a plan?" Ken asked, looking to Michael.

Michael shook his head. "Uh-uh. Not really."

"How about a barbecue?" C.J. asked, hauling a propane tank along.

He and Kyle shared a diabolical grin. He didn't like to admit it, but Kyle had always had a thing for fire and explosions. He was borderline pyrotechnic and he knew it, but he could control his urges pretty well most of the time. But now... well, now it was free game.

"Sounds good." Kyle answered before anybody else.

The two males quickly made their way up the stairs and onto the roof. C.J. readied Andy's old sniper rifle, an M40A1, while Kyle readied the propane tank, attaching a flare to the top of it.

"Ready?" C.J. asked, raising the rifle.

"Ready." Kyle replied, lighting the flare.

The Marine pulled the propane tank back, gathering strength before he heaved the large cylinder as far as he could, chucking it down into the middle of the street. C.J. took aim and Kyle took a step back, chambering his M4. C.J. eased the trigger on the rifle back.

_BOOOOOM!_

The explosion sent the crowd in every direction, dazing and confusing those it didn't kill. Although part of Kyle wanted to stay and enjoy the destruction, he knew he had more important matters to attend to and followed C.J. as he dashed down the stairs. The others had gone ahead and both men quickly climbed through the truck once again. By now, however, many of the Infected were getting up.

"Kyle! C.J.! Over here!" Tucker was calling them as Terry disappeared down the manhole they'd come out of.

Both males rushed over toward Tucker, popping off rounds here and there at the Infected who were coming toward them. Both Kyle and Tucker covered C.J. as he decended.

"Go Kyle!" Tucker said, blasting a large bald man who'd been charging at them.

"No! You go!" Kyle protested. "Civilians first!"

Tucker grunted. He didn't like this, but went along with it anyways and began climbing down the ladder. As the trucker disappeared into the manhole, Kyle's M4 ran dry. He swore, allowing the weapon to fall and snag on his shoulders as he whipped out the USP he'd taken. The crowd had recovered by the time the handgun stopped firing and was getting too close for comfort. One Infected man lunged forward suddenly, nearly knocking Kyle off of his feet.

"Fuck! Get off of me!" Kyle roared, wrestling with the man for a couple of seconds before shoving him back with full strength.

Those were valuable seconds, though. Kyle realized suddenly though that there wasn't time to close the manhole, hell, there was barely time for Kyle to get down! Instead of climbing down like the others hand, he jumped down into the opening.

He met the water with a loud splash, but landed safely. Unfortunately, the crowd began to follow...

"Shit! Shit! Go! Go! Go!"

The survivors sprinted away from the Infected who dropped down into the sewers after them, turning and firing at the crowd when they could, however, half the time nobody was even sure if they'd actually hit one of the crowd following them. The stairs came and the group flew up them at incredible speeds.

Kyle spared a glance back as he went up the stairs, taking two at a time and let out a small sigh of relief. There was more than enough distance between them and the Infected crowd to get up the stairs and get inside safely.

"Goddamn Steve Markus!" Michael yelled as they reached the top of the stairs.

"No..." Kyle's eyes widened as he saw the door that Steve had been supposed to be guarding. It was closed and locked from the otherside leaving them with no way to get in.

"Fucking asshole!" C.J. growled, throwing his weight against the steel door as if he hoped it would budge.

"Steve! Open the door!" Nicole pleaded, beating the stock of her rifle against the door.

Kyle bit his lip and whirled around as grunts and growls came from below them got closer. The first of the crowd had just reached the turn that led up to them. A charred, decaying man, stopped and stared up, meeting Kyle's gaze ominously.

There was no life in his eyes, just hunger.

More of the crowd began reaching the turn as the man trudged up the stairs. However, his head burst, sending his body backwards. Behind Kyle, Kenneth jerked the slide of his shotgun, chambering a new shell. Kyle fumbled with his H&K, ejecting the empty magazine and fetching a fresh one.

Kyle, Ken, C.J., Tucker and Terry fired down at the Infected as the crowd began to gather. It didn't seem to matter how many they blasted, two more would just take it's place. If they didn't get that door open, the crowd would over run them. And soon. As Kyle's second magazine ran dry, he heard the door open behind him.

Ana was standing there, Michael pointing a shotgun in her face, her eyes wide. He lowered the gun and she quickly realized what was going on. Everybody rushed through the door, Kyle bringing up the rear. He felt fingers brush the back of his head as he made it through the door.

C.J. was struggling with the door, trying desperately to close it on the horde that had followed them. It was hopeless though, too many were yanking on the door.

"Move!" Kenneth shouted suddenly and stepped forward, raising his new toy.

He fired, blasting an infected man who was standing in the doorway backwards. However, many others were there, trying to take his place.

"Go!" The Police Sergeant roared.

Nobody needed to be told twice; they were off, fleeing the horde that began filing through the door and into the mall, the survivors only sanctuary.


	12. Chapter 11: Desperate Escape: The Mall

**Author's Note:** I decided to split the escape scene up into two separate chapters.

Enjoy the final two chapters, 11 and 12 :3

* * *

The rescue group darted through the mall, moving towards the few others who'd stayed behind. Ana, Michael and Kenneth had the lead, while Kyle lingered back behind everyone else on purpose, Tucker and Terry in front of him. As they sprinted up one of the many staircases, he saw Monica and Glen who turned toward the group, confused.

"Where are you guys going?" Monica asked, frowning.

"They got in!" Someone shouted a quick explanation.

"We have to go! Now!"

"Move! Move! Move!"

And then Glen and Monica were running as well. Kyle spared a glance back. There was a good distance between them and the first of the pursuing horde, but nothing that couldn't be crossed within a couple of seconds at the speeds they were running. Twisting his body, Kyle turned and fired seven times. Only two of the infected collapsed.

_So much for that plan._ He thought to himself.

Turning forward again, he saw the elevator coming up. The stairs might've been a better solution, but they were in the sporting good's store, which they'd already passed up. No time to turn back now. Whoever reached the elevator first pressed the call button and the doors slid open painfully slowly.

As soon as the doors were open, everyone began to shove inside. Michael desperately beat the Basement Floor button, but it didn't seem to be doing anything. The infected were drawing closer and if the doors didn't close soon, they'd be overrun. As the first infected, a dark haired man with a red shirt, reached the doors, they began to close.

It was clear there wouldn't be enough room to get through and any thinking person would've seen this. However, the infected man wasn't thinking. He threw himself against the steel doors, screeching wildly, jaws snapping, arms flailing. He tried desperately to force himself through, but to no avail. The doors slid shut and the elevator began to descend, allowing everyone a quick breather. Kyle began reloading his USP, slipping the half-used magazine into his pocket.

"I like this song." He heard C.J. say from behind him, referring to the elevators soft jingle.

Everyone cast a glance back. If they weren't so tired or scared, they might've laughed.

The elevator finished it's journey and the doors opened. Everyone rushed out as quickly as possible, moving down a concrete ramp toward the two buses which were still unfinished. Kyle's blood boiled as he spotted Steve, leaning against the first bus as casual as ever.

"There you are." Steve spoke up, standing up and turning toward everyone. "What the hell happened? I was waiting and-"

"Prick." Ana hissed as she climbed into the first bus, The Pinta, Michael right behind her.

"Deal with you later, motherfucker!" C.J. growled, shoving Steve back before moving into the first bus as well, duffel bag bouncing against his side.

Grunting miserably, Steve shuffled away from the first bus and to the second one. Kyle followed him, glaring daggers at the back of the man's head. Monica and Ken climbed onto the bus ahead of them, The Santa Maria, followed by Steve, then Terry, leaving Glen and Kyle outside.

"W-wait! Nicole!" Terry shouted, glancing at the other bus.

"There's no time, kid! Get in!" Kyle said, giving Terry a shove.

The Lieutenant stepped back, allowing his elder to climb in before him. As he glanced around the The Santa Maria, he realized that neither Melissa nor Tucker had gotten aboard this bus. He mumbled under his breath, unslinging a large bag from around his shoulders, as well as the Savage 99 rifle. His M21 was leaning against the shelf they'd installed.

"Alright, guys. Here we go." Ken called back as he started the bus. The first bus rolled out, Ken following it closely.

Both buses picked up speed and The Pinta smashed into the gate to the garage, easily plowing through it and making room for it's sister, The Santa Maria. Thing seemed to be working out fine and Kyle couldn't help but smile. They were doing it! They were escaping! They'd left far earlier than planned, but it didn't matter! They were going to live!

Less than a minute later, the crowd outside was mercilessly rocking the bus as it moved forward at a snail's pace.

"Fucking Christ!" Monica yelped, grasping the shelf.

"This is just a big clusterfuck." Steve mumbled, bringing his arm up as he was thrown against the side of the bus.

"They're trying to tip us over!" Kenneth growled, grasping the steering wheel tightly. "Hit 'em with the saw!"

Amazingly, Steve was the first to react. He snatched up the chainsaw and jerked the rope. The engine roared to life and the chain spun. Grinning like a madman, Steve jammed the blade of the saw through the small opening they'd designed and began cutting through the poor bastards who hung onto the side of the bus.

The others grabbed what guns they could get their hands on and began to pick who they could off the sides as well, blasting who Steve didn't cut through. Everyone but Kenneth and Steve had a gun, desperately blasting away at the infected who were gathering on the bus.

"This isn't getting us anywhere!" Terry said, cocking a blue steel revolver.

"Security boy's right." Steve said. "We need a plan or we're fucked."

Kyle was busy reloading his Heckler & Koch when his thoughts wandered back to the gun store. He thought about how effective the propane tank had been and grinned. Snatching up the radio, he hit the talk button.

"C.J.! C.J., do you read me?"

Nothing for a few seconds. But then he got a response.

"Loud and clear, Kyle. What's up?"

Kyle grinned, staring down the walkie evilly. "We need another barbecue!"

He heard C.J. laugh, then reply with, "On it!"

"Excellent." Kyle muttered to himself before looking back at the others. "Alright guys! Hold onto something, these fuckers are about to go out with a _bang_!"

Everyone exchanged uneasy glances, but took the advice. Steve killed the chainsaw and tossed it aside, grabbing onto the nearest solid object that was bolted down. Others followed suit, including Kyle. It was only a matter of time before Ana yelled over the walkie-talkie.

"Fire in the hole, guys!"

Five seconds later, there was a large explosion which shook the buses with an intense fury. Glancing outside the bus, Kyle could see infected sprawled out all over the ground, some even on fire. He couldn't help but laugh menacingly, a borderline psycho grin forming on his face.

"Burn motherfuckers, _burn_." He whispered.

"Let's floor it, Ken!" Michael shouted over the walkie and then both buses were speeding off down the road again.

As they passed the gun store, Kyle gave one final salute to the store and the fallen friend they'd been forced to leave behind inside. Behind them, the parts of the crowd who'd recovered were relentlessly trailing the buses, but were no match for the shuttle's speeds, getting left in the dust. Things were going great again.

"There's still one hangin' on." Ken announced, glancing back at the others.

Everybody was glancing around, uneasy now.

"Which fuckin' side?" Steve asked.

Ken glanced in the mirror and gritted his teeth before answering, pushing the pedal down even further. "Right side!"

"I got him!" Glen said, bending over and retrieving the chainsaw. He yanked the rope, trying to start the saw.

There was a loud shriek followed by a thump. Kyle whirled around, eyes wide as the infected threw itself against the side of the bus. The Lieutenant could hear the chainsaw being revved and knew they problem was about to being taken care of.

Suddenly, the bus took a hard left and Kyle lost his footing. He tumbled to the side, crashing into Steve and sent both of them into poor Terry, who was caught between them and the side of the bus. Glen on the otherhand flew toward Monica, involuntarily raising the chainsaw.

Monica screamed.

Blood splashed Kyle's face.

The Santa Maria began tipping over. Kyle brought his arms up and covered his face and he crashed roughly into the wall as it became the floor. He rolled, smashing his back into the shelf and bringing tons of supplies down on top of him.

Ammunition and guns crashed down around him as the bus slid across the street. The next few seconds were blurry. He thought the bus came to a stop, but he couldn't tell. Something hard smashed into the back of his head, sending him into a daze. He heard someone shuffling around, but didn't have the strength to look around and see who.

Slowly, Kyle faded into blackness.


	13. Chapter 12: Desperate Escape: The Marina

"...yle..."

"...Kyle..."

"...Kyle!"

First Lieutenant Kyle Ambrose's eyes slowly flickered open. Someone was crouching over him, though he couldn't tell who. He blinked slowly, his vision coming back into focus. Ana was kneeled down, her hand on his shoulder, shaking him roughly.

"Oh thank God you're awake, Kyle."

He didn't know how long he'd been out for, but his head throbbed. He made an attempt to stand up, but his body was on fire. He was hurting badly.

"Can you stand up?" Ana asked frantically.

"Y-yeah... I think so. Hurts to move though."

"No time for complaints, soldier boy."

C.J. was suddenly kneeled down, gripping Kyle's arm and pulling the Marine to his feet. Kyle hissed sharply as a wave of pain hit him hard. He groaned lightly, using the shelf for support.

"Those fuckers are getting closer. We've gotta go. Now." C.J. said, stepping over the bloodied remains of Monica and Glen.

Kyle grunted, looking away from them. Just two more people to add to the list of people he'd lost during this whole thing. How many more would there be?

"Alright." Kyle stood up, fighting the pain. "Let's get the hell outta here." He said.

He searched the bus as quickly as possible, retrieving his M21 DMR and the Savage 99. His M4 was nowhere to be found though. He swore and decided it was best to forget about it. He hoped someone else had grabbed it, but oh well if they didn't.

Kyle followed after Ana, stepping carefully over their two deceased friends and clambering out the buses emergency roof exit. Outside, Ken, C.J. and Terry were waiting.

"Hurry! We gotta go now!" C.J. snapped, turning away.

"Where's Steve?" Kyle asked, frowning.

"In the other bus." Ken replied. "The fucker tried to take off."

"Yeah. Threw him in The Pinta and stripped the son of a bitch of those boat keys." C.J. laughed, holding up a yellow foam piece with a key attached to it.

Kyle smirked a bit as they moved from the wreckage. "Good."

Screeches filled the air. The crowd was getting closer. Everyone shifted into third gear and made a mad dash for the other bus. As they rounded the corner, however, they could clearly see the horde rushing at them from down the street.

"Holy shit!"

"Do we have enough distance!"

"Who cares! Just move your ass!"

"Go goddammit, go!"

They made it to The Pinta where everyone was waiting. Michael flung the door open and everyone began to cram inside. As the last person entered, the infected crowd was too close for comfort. Michael and C.J. quickly pulled the door closed. The first of the crowd reached them, throwing it's weight against the door and rocking the bus. As soon as they slid the latch closed and locked the door, Kenneth, who had gotten into the driver's seat, floored it.

Kyle let out a small sigh, leaning against the shelf that had been bolted down into the bus. His body still ached, especially his head. They'd brought medicine with them, but there was no time to search the bags. The marina wasn't that far. He could worry about the pain when they were on the boat and sailing toward safety.

"You okay?" Kyle glanced back and saw Melissa. He nodded, giving a half-hearted smile.

"Yeah." He said. "Fine."

"You don't look fine."

"Melissa, don't worry, I'm-"

The Pinta jolted suddenly as they smashed into an abandoned car, easily pushing it out of the way thanks to the snow plow attached to the front. Melissa stumbled forward, bumping into Kyle. He smiled down at her as he raised his arms, hugging her.

"I'm fine."

"I can see the marina!" Kenneth announced and everyone gave a soft cheer.

The bus plowed through the gates of the marina, heading straight toward the docks. Steve had told them about his boat at the mall and exactly where it was. Thankfully, it was already out on the water, ready to set sail.

"Hold on guys." Ken grunted, picking up speed. "Things're about to get a little rough."

"What do you-" C.J. had began to ask, but was cut off as the bus went rolled onto the dock.

The whole shuttle rocked and shuttered as the boards that made up the dock cracked underneath the weight. The Pinta was almost completely on top of the dock, leaning forward, the front bumper touching the water.

"Alright! Let's go!" Michael said, throwing the back door open once more.

He jumped down and onto the ground, followed by Ana, then Terry, Chip and Nicole. Steve swore, grunting as C.J. jerked him by the back of his shirt, shoving him out the door. Kenneth was next, then Melissa. C.J. was busy scooping up more of the bags as Kyle hopped out of the bus as well, the Savage rifle in his hands, his M21 around his shoulder.

"Keys're in the bag! Get to the end of the dock!" C.J. commanded, tossing his duffel bag down to Ken.

"C.J., Come on! We don't have time!" Ken shouted back.

"Do it, man! I'll catch up!" C.J. insisted.

"Yeah." Steve said, throwing in his two cents. "Let's leave the fucker if he wants us to."

"Shut the fuck up, Steve." Kyle growled, glaring.

The Lieutenant whirled around as the crowd screeched, seeing a handful of the infected come into view. He raised his rifle, took quick aim and fired at the lead infected. The leader, a thin, armless woman, fell to her knees, her head snapping backwards. Kyle snapped the lever, reloading his weapon.

"Kyle! Ken! Go!" C.J. shouted, raising his Franchi PA8, firing at the fast approaching infected.

They hesitated a couple of seconds before finally moving. Steve had gone ahead of them, however, listening the C.J. the first time. Kyle and Ken sprinted down the dock, Ken jumped onto the boat as he made it. He threw the bag down and crouched next to it, searching for the keys. Kyle on the other hand remained on the down, alongside Ana, Michael and Tucker, whipping around and bringing his rifle up. The four fired at the infected they could see, the ones who were beginning to climb onto The Pinta.

"Shit." Kyle said, watching as more and more of the crowd piled onto the crashed bus. "C.J., come on man."

It seemed hopeless. Too much time had passed, C.J. was surely dead - or worse - by now. Kyle bit his lowered lip, watching nervously as more and more infected attacked the parking shuttle.

"We can't wait anymore." Michael said, shaking his head. "We have to go now."

"But what about C.J.?" Nicole asked, looking at the male.

"He's dead." Michael said surely.

Kyle swore. He didn't want to agree, but he knew it was true. It was too late for C.J. He'd been over run and now-

The side door to the bus flew open and C.J. fell out, landing hard on his side.

"Holy shit, it's C.J.!" Terry shouted, eyes wide.

"C.J.!" Kyle screamed.

C.J. scrambled to his feet and darted down the dock as fast as his legs could possibly carry him. However, right behind him, infected began to pour out and were on his heels.

Everyone who was able raised their guns and began to fire. With the number of infected growing and the amount of firearms training and experience most of the group had, it seemed like a pointless effort. If they were a trained firing squad, or a squad of marksman it might have made a difference...

But it wasn't. This was just the way things were working out and they had to make due with what they had. Kyle took carefully aimed shots with his Savage, not missing once. However, when his ran dry, he tossed it aside. Instead, he swapped to his handgun. He wished now that he had taken a little more time to search for his M4.

C.J. jumped up onto the boat as he reached it. Ken turned the key and the boat roared to life. Unfortunately, the infected were closing in fast.

"Go Ken! Go!" Steve screamed. He was busy reloading a handgun and was standing close to the edge.

Too close.

The boat jolted forward as the engine started, propellers turning. Steve's eyes widened as he fell forward, arms flailing, losing his grip on the handgun he'd been holding.

"Nooooo!" He screamed as he toppled into the water.

Infected jumped into the water after him, others leaping toward and onto the boat.

"Fuck!" Kyle dropped two more of the infected who landed on deck before rushing to the edge where Steve had fallen off.

The brunette asshole was flailing wildly, eyes wide with terror, legs kicking underneath the water.

"Kyle! Help! Help me! Please help me!" He shouted, trying to grab onto the side of the boat.

Kyle leaned over the side and reached down, holding out his gloved hand to Steve. "Grab my hand!"

Steve swatted at the Lieutenant's hand, but to no avail. He was too far away. But Kyle wasn't about to give up. He leaned further, stretching his arm out so much it ached. Steve finally managed to take hold of the Marine's hand.

"Pull me up! Pull me up!" Steve repeated over and over, grasping Kyle's wrist with both hands.

"You gotta help too!" Kyle shouted, pulling with all his strength. "Kick goddammit, kick!"

He'd managed to pull Steve partly out of the water when one of the infected leapt onto Steve's back. Kyle yelped, the muscles in his arms burning. He felt his feet leave the deck of the boat and desperately tried to pull away.

"Kyyylllleeee!" Steve screamed, the infected biting deeply into his shoulder.

"Let go of me!" Kyle grunted, feeling himself getting pulled further and further off of the deck.

Suddenly C.J. and Michael were by Kyle's side. Michael threw his arms around Kyle's waist and pulled him back down while C.J. leaned over the side, firing at the infected who were bobbing in the water and grabbing onto Steve.

"Get off of him!"

Steve refused to release him though, holding tightly, nails digging into his skin. The infected who'd jumped onto Steve tore into his neck now, ripping a large chunk out. Steve's eyes buldged and he gurgled something. His grip began loosening as blood flowed freely from the wound. Kyle yanked his arm free and Steve slipped underneath the surface.

"Punch it, Ken!" Michael screamed as both he and Kyle fell backwards onto the deck.

The boat surged forward then and Kyle breathed heavily, eyes closed.

"Thanks, you guys..." He said as C.J. helped them up.

"No problem, Kyle." Michael breathed.

"Steve Markus." C.J. said harshly. "An asshole to the end."

Kyle glanced back at the docks and saw Infected standing on the ends, while others were paddling after the boat. They'd never catch up, but that didn't stop them from trying. He sighed and walked over to the nearest chair, taking a seat.

He thought about everything that had happened, as he usually did. The events that had changed his life before the abysmal destruction of mankind, as well as what happened during his stay at the mall with everyone else. He thought about the people he'd lost, the friends he'd gained and ultimately what was lying in store for them at the end of this boat ride.

Melissa wandered over to him, the Savage 99 rifle in her hands. She handed the weapon off to him before taking a seat beside Kyle. He glanced over at her and smiled. She returned the smile before leaning over, resting her head on his shoulder. He pushed the thoughts out of his head. Right now, he needed to relax. They'd managed to escape from the city and were now on their way to an uncertain future.

He didn't know what lie in store, nobody did. The islands, if they even existed, were hopefully safe from the infection. Or at the very least, abandoned completely. Kyle didn't care about that right now though. He, and everyone else, was healthy and alive. That's all that mattered at the moment.

The future could wait.


	14. Bonus Chapter 1: Mom's Call

**Author's Note:** I whipped this Bonus Chapter up a little while ago. Please note that this little incident takes place about two or so days before Chapter One.

Hope you enjoy it ^^

* * *

Kyle sighed as he laced up the strings on his right boot, mumbling obstinacies under his breath. Pulling the string through the final lace, the First Lieutenant – by habit – double knotted his boot string and stood up, twisting his ankle a bit to test it's comfort ability. Satisfied with the boots, he began to go to work on his tactical vest.

"Yo Lieutenant, you've got a call."

Surprised, Kyle turned around and faced Gunnery Sergeant John Thompson who was standing in the doorway.

"Excuse me?" Kyle blinked.

"I said you got a call, Lieutenant. It's your Mother."

At this, the First Lieutenant frowned. _Mom? What's she doing calling me now?_ On the outside, however, Kyle didn't show his confusion and concern. He only nodded in response. "Yeah, alright. I'll be there in a second."

With a grunt, the Gunnery Sergeant disappeared.

"Mom…" Kyle whispered to himself. A small sigh passed his lips as he shrugged off the vest, which had remained undone, and placed it back inside of his locker.

With haste, the soldier closed the locker door and exited the room, making his way down one of the long hallways of the military Head Quarters. It was a large, square building, eight stories in height. Nobody besides high-ranking soldiers would get past the third floor though. Kyle himself had barely achieved clearance to be up there.

Quickly, Kyle spotted Thompson standing near one of the large pay phones that had been set into the wall. Nodding, the Gunnery Sergeant turned and walked away. The First Lieutenant picked up the black plastic phone and placed it to his ear.

"Hello?" Kyle said.

"Hello? Kyle?" The sound of his Mother's voice was easy to recognize.

"Yeah, this is me Mom." Kyle chuckled in response.

"Oh Kyle!" She sounded happy. "Oh, my baby, how have you been? I haven't been able to get a hold of you for three weeks! And you haven't called, I told you to call!"

"I'm sorry Mom. I've just been busy with work." Kyle answered half-truthfully. Kyle had indeed been busy. But in reality, he hadn't been so busy he couldn't take or make a call. To be completely honest though, he'd been screening calls left and right and purposely neglecting to call everyone that had been trying to get in touch with him – not just her.

"Oh… It's alright sweetie, I understand. Life has been a bit rough since...." She trailed off.

"Yeah…." Kyle said, kicking himself seconds later for sounding to pathetically weak. "Um. Anyways…. Why're you callin' Mom?" The question and tone had both been a bit more rude than he'd intended.

"Well…. I just wanted to hear your voice hun. It's been such a long time since I've seen your face. When are you coming home?"

"I don't know, Mom. Things've been hectic lately. Ever since I came back into service, they've had me working non-stop. I've been filling out paperwork, attending meetings and they even had me training some recruits for a bit." Once again, Kyle was only giving her half-truths. There were things he couldn't tell her.

Like the fact that there was a lot of hush-hush bussiness lately. Soldiers were gearing up and the men and women in the reserves were being pulled in for intense training and were to become full fledged soldiers as soon as possible. Higher ranking commisioned officers were talking about things too; secret code words, talking amoung themselves, orders from unknown uppers. There were secrets in being kept from most people and Kyle was one of them. He didn't like it.

The First Lieutenant couldn't help but wonder about the test he'd volunteered for almost two months earlier and if it had any connections to the current happenings. Probably not.

"Oh my. That's new." His Mother said, amused.

"Heh…. Yeah." Kyle nodded, scratching the back of his neck.

"Oh? Huh?" Kyle could hear somebody say something in the background. "Oh. Frank says hello, Kyle."

"Tell him I said Hi back." The soldier gave a small smile.

Frank Ambrose – Kyle's step-Father. He was a good, hard working man. Although he wasn't Kyle's real Father, he was much better. He truly did love Kyle like a son and the Lieutenant couldn't help but return the feelings. But – as much he hated to admit it – Kyle still did love his bigological Father. He always had despite the way he had treated both him and his Mother. They'd rekindled their relationship a bit just a few days ago. Kyle thought about telling his Mother about that call, but decided against it.

Unlike Kyle, she despised that man with every fiber of her being.

And she had every right.

Benjamen Ambrose had caused a lot of grief for Kyle and his Mother. Things had started out well and been well until Kyle was seven years old. That's when his Father began to drink heavily and became an alcoholic. Physical and verbal abuse soon followed and it took over eleven years for it all to stop. On Kyle's eighteenth birthday, Ben had come home a bit more sober than usual, but still drunk enough to fight. That night, after a scuffle, both Kyle and his Father spent the night in jail.

The next day, his Mother began filling out the divorce papers.

"We're both worried about you…."

"Yeah, I know Mom. I'll be home as soon as I can, okay? Gimme maybe a week or two. A month at the longest."

"You promise Kyle?"

"Yes Mom, I promise."

"Oh Kyle…." He heard her giggle. "I'm so glad."

"Me too, Mom."

"And me three." Kyle heard Frank from the background.

"You've got me on speaker?" Kyle asked.

"Well, I do now. I put you on after Frank said Hello."

"Ah. Well, how've you two been lately?"

"Wonderful dear, just wonderful." His Mother said.

"Oh yes, just great." Frank agreed. "Wanting to see you of course though, Kyle."

The First Lieutenant cringed. That was one of the only things that bothered him about Frank. Not once in his life had he ever called him 'son.' It wasn't the fact that they didn't have that bond or that either of them didn't want that. It was more about right. As much as he wanted it, Frank wasn't Kyle's Father. And he never would be. Therefore, he had no right to call him 'son.' And that fact pained them both.

"Yeah, I wanna see you guys too." Again, another half-truth. "Like I said, just gimme a bit of time."

"First Lieutenant Ambrose."

Kyle turned and laid eyes on Brigadier General Davidson.

"Sir." Kyle blinked, straightening up.

"At ease, soldier." The General looked him up and down then grunted. "We've got a meeting in two minutes. Hurry it up."

"Yes, Sir."

The General gave Kyle a nod before turning and walking away.

"Hey Mom, I've gotta go." Kyle said hurriedly.

"Oh, alright sweetie…." His Mom said, deflated. "You'll be home soon right?"

"Yes, Mom. I promise."

"Thank you, Kyle. Good bye, sweetie. We love you."

"Good-bye Mom, I love you both too."

And with this, Kyle placed the phone back on it's hook, allowing a soft sigh to escape his lips. He brought his hand to his eyes, taking a few cleansing breaths before turning and walking in the direction General Davidson had gone. So many things he hadn't been able to tell his Mother and Step-Father. The hush-hush bussiness, the call from his biological Father, anything about Angie's death. Ever since her death, things had been hard for him. He'd been close to his baby sister and now she was gone. And he had nobody to talk to; nobody who would understand. At least, that's the way he felt.

And that thought hurt him so much.


	15. Bonus Chapter 2: Angie's Fateful Night

"No Mom, I don't need you to do that for me. No, it's fine. Mom, I just want you to get some rest okay?"

Twenty-six year old Angela Ambrose drove along the city road in a white, 2003 Ford Focus. She was on her cell phone, chatting it up with her Mother. Her ebony colored hair was tied back, out of her face and she wore a pair of jeans, a turqouise t-shirt and a black and grey striped sweat jacket over it.

"Alright Mom, goodnight. I love you too, bye."

With this, Angie jammed the end button with her thumb and set the phone down, letting out a small sigh. As usual, her Mother was being over-concerned and more worried about her children than she was about herself. She had the flu and was worried about Angie's, hopefully, up-coming promotion as well as her romantic life.

Angie was single for the time being, though, she was interested in a certain guy named Brad. He was a young, red headed mechanic who worked at a local garage. He was a real sweetheart and had sent her flowers more than once at work. When they first met, she could never see herself going out with a boy like him, so goofy and laidback, but over time, she'd begun to really like him.

Turning right, she pulled into the parking lot of 7/11. Killing the ignition, she climbed out and locked her car up before walking inside. Behind the counter, there was an older man, easily in his mid-fifties. He smiled, giving her a wave. There was nobody else inside.

Returning the smile and wave, Angie made her way toward the refridgerators. She quickly found what she was looking for and retrieved two half-gallons of milk.

As she made her way to the register, she stopped as she passed the other drinks. She turned to the fridge and browsed the selection. After careful consideration, she opened the door and reached in, fetching a can of raspberry flavored Arizona tea.

Angie walked over to the counter, placing both items infront of the cashier. He smiled happily and began to scan them.

"Oh," Angie smiled and stepped back, half-turning. "hold on please."

She quickly made her way toward the rear of the store, toward the snacks. She'd been craving something sweet since she had left the department. As she was deciding what she would buy, two men came through the door. Both were wearing ski masks.

"Yo man, this is a stick-up!" The first man who came in was wielding a shotgun.

"Put all the money in the bag, you old bastard!" A second man was holding both an aluminum baseball bat and a small sack.

As soon as she had seen the man with the gun, she ducked down behind the racks. Cursing, she fetched her Charter Arms Off Duty revolver and pulled the hammer back. Taking a deep breath, Angie jumped up, whipping the revolver up and toward the two suspects.

"Put the gun down and your hands in the air, or I swear I'll put you down!" She said loudly and clearly, eyes narrowing.

The first man's head snapped to the side, eyes buldging. "O-oh shit!" He dropped his shotgun, arms shooting into the air.

_Phew, that went better than expected._ Angie thought as the second man too dropped his weapon.

"Put your hands on your head and get to your knees." She barked. Both men did as told.

Angela slowly approached the perps, right arm keeping her revolver leveled while he left hand went behind her for a pair of handcuffs. The cashier looked scared, but relieved.

"Should've stayed home boys." Angie said, locking the cuffs on the first man's right wrist.

"I'm sure you both know this, but you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say, can and will be used against you in a court of-"

"Look out!"

On instinct, Angie began to spin around, ready to shoot.

_Bang!_

She cringed as a sudden sharp pain shot through her, starting at her lower back. She fell forward, crashing against one of the snack racks. The familiar metallic taste of blood was on her tongue.

_Bang! Bang!_

She heard a sharp yelp and then a thud. She knew the cashier had been shot now. Still in tremendus pain, Angie struggled to push herself up and fight back. Another loud shot stopped her and another bullet stabbed her a couple of inches below the right shoulder.

"Ugh..." Angela lost her strength and collpased, her gun sliding away.

"Stupid bitch, shoulda stayed hidden." The shooter had a deep voice.

Angie closed her eyes and her thoughts began to fade as she lost blood. Her mind wandered back to her childhood, sitting in a tree with her older brother Kyle out in the woods near their old house. They were laughing, an old glass jar in his hands. He was swinging it around, trying to catch fireflies.

Her thoughts suddenly switched to Brad and the goofy grin he always greeted her with. He really was a sweetheart and Angie now deeply regretted now asking him out sooner. Brad was good guy, like her brother. Good guys were hard to come by.

"Kyle... Brad..." She whispered to herself.

The shooter leveled his gun with the back of her head before slowly easing the trigger back.

_Bang!_

* * *

**Author's Note:** And that's it D: Now you all know what happened to poor Angie on that night.

Sorry if this chapter wasn't that great, I kinda whipped it up in about an hour x.x

Hope you all enjoyed finding out what happened though!


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